The Reasons Why They Don't Know Me
by morningstar115
Summary: Camelot is at peace. Arthur, Merlin, and the loyal Knights of Camelot still have their hands full keeping the kingdom in line, but what's life without a little variety? But loyalties and friendships are soon put to the test when a series of events begins to reveal the deepest secrets of one of the most trusted knights of the Round Table; secrets that could change everything.
1. Prologue

Prologue

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 **UPDATE FOR STORY FOLLOWERS 7/25/16: The prologue of the sequel to this story, The Battles We Cannot Evade, has just been posted! Hurray! I look forward to hearing your opinions on it! :)**

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 **Hello!**

 **This is going to be my first multi-chapter fic for Merlin! Bear in mind that this is just the prologue, therefore it isn't terribly specific about places or people (I tend to do that with prologues); the next chapter _is_ set in Camelot.**

 **Also consider that this is an AU set after Season 4, and that it kind of messes the backstory of one of the characters (you'll see what I mean later), so if you're a person who's completely devoted to the histories set down in the show, this story is probably not the best read for you.**

 **Rated T for violence, probably nothing terribly graphic.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

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 _Why must it rain so hard?_

The teenage boy grumbled indistinctly to himself, trying to readjust the hood that kept slipping off his tangled dark hair. He peered forward through the drenching sheets as he urged his gray mare to a trot.

Just ahead of him, his father, mounted on a bay stallion, turned to give him a reassuring look. "We're almost home!" he called through the sound of the drumming raindrops.

The boy tried to smile back, but he was honestly too wet and miserable to care much about anyone's feelings but his own. Why, oh why had he wanted to join his father on this trip? If he could go back in time and change his decision.

 _Two days. Two whole days in the pouring rain._ Much as he loved to travel, there were limits on what the boy would willingly tolerate.

He hated rain. And being hungry. And waking up too early. Especially waking up too early.

He glanced up briefly, hoping to see through the trees a break in the rain clouds above, but was only rewarded with a face-full of cold water. For a while after that he kept his gaze on the muddy path visible to him between his horse's ears.

So he didn't see the bandits until they were almost on top of him.

He heard his father yell his name just as he was pulled from his saddle. His mare reared and whinnied loudly as two bandits yanked the boy off of her and dragged him to the side of the path.

They underestimated him. Kicking one of them in the knee, he twisted violently to free himself from the clutches of the other. The sword that rarely he wore but rarely used except in training was out of its scabbard in an instant.

He brought down one of his attackers with a sweeping blow, red blood splashing drenching the silver blade. The other bandit took longer; but the boy had trained with a sword for almost as long as he could remember, and he soon brought the thug down.

Looking up from his kills, he saw his father attempting to fight off three bandits at once. Another caught sight of the boy and raced towards him, shouting for one of his companions to follow.

The teenager dashed off a short distance through the trees, wanting to draw at least a couple of the outlaws away from his father. Though his father was an exceptionally skilled swordsman, he was not by any means invincible. Why, oh why had they decided to travel alone this time? Why hadn't they brought any guards?

As he heard the men coming up behind them, he whirled, his blade flashing through the air, silver stained with red. Somehow it didn't bother him; the blood, or the fact that he'd just killed two people.

Within a few minutes, he'd killed two more.

Gasping for breath, blood oozing from a cut on his left arm, the boy sank down behind a large tree. He could no longer hear the clashing of metal on metal that had so recently been coming from where he had last seen his father. He didn't even hear the horses; they'd probably run off.

Sometime during the fight, the rain had begun to slacken. A few slender tendrils of sunlight made their way down from the clouds, bathing patches of the woods in a soft golden radiance. Light struck the water droplets clinging to leaves and branches, turning them to sparkling diamonds.

It all felt surreal to the boy, who remained half-crouched behind the tree, listening intently for sounds of pursuit while at the same time feeling as if he wasn't truly present.

 _I just killed four people._

He'd never killed before. Not a person, at least; animals, yes. But that was different.

 _They were trying to kill you. You had no choice._

Yes, he'd had no choice. He'd defended himself. It certainly wouldn't be the last time he'd have to…

The snapping of some twigs alerted him to the presence of someone else. Someone who was extremely close to his hiding spot.

The boy reacted. Quickly.

He lunged to his face and swung around the tree, driving his blade into the person who had come after him. It was over swiftly.

Too swiftly.

He hadn't thought about it. He'd acted completely without considering the results. Hadn't that always been a failing of his? Hadn't that always been where he'd gone wrong?

But it was too wrong this time. Far too wrong to be righted. Ever.

Because the bloodied tip of his sword was now sticking out of his own father's back.

* * *

It was hours later, miles away, before his body finally reacted. He fell down in the middle of a stony gully and threw up violently, vomiting over and over again until not even bile came up. Then he crawled into a narrow crevice nearby, shaking all over.

 _Why?_

Such a tiny word that asked so much.

He only spent a few hours in the gully before he began to move again, trekking quickly through the woods. When he reached an unfamiliar path, he took it, moving farther and father away from the lands he knew. He had to get away.

The days and nights blurred together. The roads and villages all looked the same. He lied about his age and family if anyone bothered to ask. He gambled and drank excessively, making enemies wherever he went. Not that he needed another excuse to keep traveling.

 _Farther. Farther._ He had to keep fleeing.

No matter how far he traveled, however, he couldn't forget what he'd done.

 _The shouts. The blades clashing. The blood all over his sword. Blood that should not be there._

He couldn't forgive himself, either. He wouldn't.

Ever.

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 **There it is! I'll post the next chapter as soon as possible!**

 **Reviews are very much appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

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 **I've been stuck at my grandparents' house for most of the day with nothing to do, so I decided to churn out another chapter far earlier than I usually do!**

 **I know that this one is kind of slow, but it's mainly set up for the rest of the story.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Merlin dumped another armful of chain mail into a rickety basket. He really wished that he didn't have to polish it that evening, but Arthur had ordered it all sorted out by the next morning, and there'd be hell to pay if it wasn't done on time.

 _As if having to clean the king's_ chamber pot _this morning wasn't bad enough…_

Merlin grumbled quietly to himself. Arthur had truly been insufferable today; all during the court affairs of the morning and especially during the afternoon hours of training. As usual, he'd felt the need to make Merlin his "moving target" for spear-throwing practice.

And now Merlin had to take care of all the knights' chain mail. _Well, I suppose I could use magic for some of it…_

Merlin was startled from his private musings by Percival's hard (though friendly) slap on the shoulder. "Merlin! Just the man I was hoping to speak with!"

Rubbing his shoulder, Merlin grinned slightly and responded, "Hello, Percival." He eyed the hulking knight. "What do you want? Do I need to polish your boots, too?"

This seemed to confuse Percival for a moment, then he laughed. "No need for that, Merlin, I got them polished this morning. Actually," he lowered his voice, glancing briefly around the mostly empty armory, "I wanted to ask you…"

"Percival!" Elyan strode up to them. "Did you ask him?"

"Ask me what?" Merlin suppressed a chuckle at the mildly exasperated looked Percival directed at Elyan.

"I was just about to ask him, Elyan…" Percival shook his head slightly and turned back to Merlin. "You see, Merlin, Elyan and I wanted to ask you if you'd noticed anything odd about Gwaine lately?"

Merlin thought about that for a moment. To be perfectly honest, he had been so busy lately that he'd hardly noticed Gwaine or what the dark-haired knight had been doing. But thinking back on it, he realized that there was another reason for that. "He _has_ been rather…withdrawn, I guess? Why are you asking me, anyway?"

"You knew him longer than the rest of us." Percival pointed out.

"Exactly." Elyan said. "You've been his friend for longer, so we thought maybe he'd talked to you."

"Talked to me? About what?"

"That's just it." Percival replied. "He _hasn't_ been talking much lately. He's been, like you said, withdrawn. He doesn't make nearly as many jokes as usual…"

"And he went to the tavern only once last week, Merlin. _Once_. In a _week_. I mean, this is Gwaine we're talking about! Plus he wasn't up to par in training today or yesterday." Elyan sighed. "So I guess he hasn't spoken to you?"

"No, I've barely seen him, really." Merlin frowned; he _had_ noticed Gwaine's difficulty in training, however. "Any idea when this weird behavior started?"

The two knights considered this. "Not really…" Percival murmured finally. "Three weeks, maybe?"

"Then perhaps he's in love." Merlin suggested, though somehow he doubted that was the case. "I wouldn't expect him to act like he has been if he _was_ , but maybe…"

Suddenly, Elyan snapped his fingers. "I've got it." he said excitedly. "The patrol a few weeks back? When the bandits attacked us? He hasn't been the same since."

Merlin immediately recalled the incident. Arthur had decided to lead a patrol (so Merlin, naturally, had had to come along). While they were returning to Camelot, the knights had been set upon by bandits. They had been nothing but desperate thugs, really; the battle was over in a few minutes. The knights emerged victorious, and the few brigands that had not been killed had run away. A couple knights had suffered minor injuries; however Gwaine had not been one of them. In fact, the worst part of the whole incident had been the heavy rainfall. Everyone in the patrol had been soaked to the skin by the time they reached Camelot. "Gwaine was already acting sort of subdued on that patrol though, wasn't he?"

"I think that was just because he doesn't like to get wet. Who does?"

"Well, whatever happened, Gwaine hasn't been himself." Percival broke in. "I'm starting to get worried about him." Elyan murmured his agreement.

Merlin looked from one knight to the other. "Have either of you tried broaching the subject with him?"

They exchanged glances. "He keeps changing the subject." Elyan explained. "Laughing it off."

"Typical Gwaine." Percival muttered.

"So we thought…"

"That I might have better luck talking to him?" The knights nodded. Merlin took a deep breath. "All right, I'll try. And I'll tell you if I find anything out. Right now I have work to do; I really don't want to push Arthur's patience considering the mood he's in." He paused, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Do you know what Gwaine would say if he knew you two were so worried about him?"

They didn't even hesitate. "Mother hens." Percival and Elyan said at the same time.

* * *

It was nearly nightfall when Merlin finally found the time to talk with Gwaine. Between his conversation with Elyan and Percival and then, he had been partially occupied remembering the last couple weeks, reexamining what he had previously barely observed.

His conclusion was that something was undoubtedly wrong with Gwaine. The usually lighthearted knight had been acting like a shadow, not even playing pranks on other knights as he was wont to do. He'd seemed wearier, moved with less bounce in his step. Merlin couldn't believe that he'd missed these signs before. Gwaine was his friend; he should have noticed something was up right away.

The best he could do now was to try and get Gwaine to divulge what was wrong with him.

He found the knight in the stables, silently brushing his black charger with a distinctly preoccupied air.

Merlin leaned against the stall door for a minute, watching his friend. Gwaine didn't even seem to notice him. "I'm surprised you're not at the tavern." Merlin commented nonchalantly after a while.

Gwaine jumped slightly, proof that he hadn't noticed the servant before. "Merlin." he said in a tone of clearly forced lightness, his face showing only a hint of his usually careless grin. "What brings you to this dark corner of the royal stables?"

 _He's trying to distract me by joking around, as usual._ Merlin realized that this method was actually quite effective; he'd used it himself. Mostly on Arthur. Abruptly deciding not to delay any longer (that would undoubtedly lead to more inane jokes) he asked bluntly, "What is going on with you, Gwaine?"

The knight's shoulders tensed suddenly. Merlin noted that he remained tense even as he said carelessly, "What are you talking about, Merlin?" His constant brushing of the horse's coat seemed less methodical and more nervous than before.

"You know full well what I'm talking about." When Gwaine did not respond immediately, Merlin went on, "You're withdrawn. You haven't gone to the tavern with the other knights in days. Even I noticed that your swordsmanship has suffered from whatever is ailing you; I'm sure Arthur has as well." Then, because he was still feeling a little guilty for not discerning Gwaine's odd behavior sooner, Merlin added, "Elyan and Percival told me that you've refused to talk to them."

Gwaine sighed dramatically. "So my fellow knights are discussing my change in behavior? Have they no shame, no sense of privacy?" He laughed, but it was taut, strained laughter. "Seriously, Merlin, it's nothing. I'm just having an off week; everyone does, even Arthur. As a matter of fact, I think that you should focus your concern on the Princess, he's been in such a bad mood lately…"

Merlin cut him off. "Gwaine, I know you try very hard to never take anything seriously, but please; we are your friends, and we're worried about you. Why don't you just tell me…"

"No!" It came out harsh, violent.

Merlin jumped backwards, startled, as the black horse in the stall whinnied and shied away from his master. Never, ever, had Gwaine spoken to Merlin like that.

Shouted, rather. And he wasn't finished. "For the last time Merlin, I am fine! Will you just leave me alone?"

Merlin locked gazes with Gwaine for a few long moments, before realizing that anything he said wouldn't sway the stubborn refusal in his friend's eyes. Suddenly, he broke eye contact, turned and strode out of the stables, feeling nothing short of bewildered.

 _What in the name of the Great Dragon is wrong with him?_

* * *

Sir Gwaine didn't want to fall asleep.

He was actually very tired, the result of and afternoon spent training. Though he hadn't been at his best. Everyone had noticed.

 _I don't deserve to be so good that they notice when I'm not._

He was tired. He wanted to escape from his disturbing thoughts. But he didn't want to sleep.

 _Sleeping just brings the nightmares back._

Stupid patrol. Stupid bandits. Stupid rain. Why had it all had to happen like that? Why did it have to remind him?

 _I don't like the rain._

Especially the rain in his nightmares.

That rain always turned into blood.

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 **I'll update as soon as possible! Reviews are most appreciated!**


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

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 **Hi, everyone!**

 **It took me a couple days to write this, but I think it was worth it!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"I don't care how busy Arthur's been keeping you, Merlin, you need to clean your room. _Now!_ " With unusual vigor for his age, Gaius hurled a couple of Merlin's shirts and a few books on top of the young warlock, who was cowering in his bed. "And hurry up or you'll have no breakfast!" Gaius stumped out, grumbling to himself as the "idiot boy" he was riled with crawled out from under the covers, groaning. He really shouldn't have spilled that cough potion all over Gaius' bed sheets the night before. Even though he had been able to clean it up magically, it still left the old physician in a foul mood.

 _Him and everyone else,_ Merlin thought to himself as he began to get dressed and tidied his room at bit. While he did this automatically, his thoughts wandered.

Two weeks had passed since his rather unsuccessful conversation with Gwaine. Since then, the knight's behavior had improved to at least a semblance of its usual joviality, though he remained somewhat cool in his manner towards Merlin. He'd been going to the tavern again, but his actions there were far from normal. The previous night, Merlin had been dragged down to the tavern on the insistence of the knights. He'd avoided the ale, but he'd watched Gwaine.

Usually, Gwaine was the life of the party down at the tavern; drinking, gambling, joking, and flirting. That night, he'd spent most of the time alone at a corner table, drinking excessively, but with little pretense of gratification. According to Elyan, that was what he'd been doing for over a week; drinking until he could barely stand but with no sign of actually enjoying any of it. During the day, he joked constantly, but rarely laughed. And when he did, his laughter was still strained. At least he'd gotten his fighting skills back to normal.

But Gwaine's improved behavior merely increased Merlin's desire to get to the bottom of the matter.

Because to Merlin, the improvements seemed suspiciously like an act.

* * *

"Sire, there's been rumors of a small band of slave traders only a day's ride or so from Camelot." Sir Leon said. "I suggest that we investigate."

Arthur nodded and looked around at the assembled knights and members of the court. "I agree. Slave traders are not to be tolerated in our kingdom." He paused, considering. "I'll lead a patrol; Leon, prepare the knights. Council dismissed." As the courtiers all bowed and left, Arthur turned to Queen Guinevere, "We'll only be gone a few days at most, so you don't need to get that look on your face, Gwen."

This made his wife smile a little. "I know, Arthur, you're constantly running off to the far reaches of the kingdom and you always come back, usually several days late and looking sheepish." Arthur laughed.

Merlin and Gauis, standing in their usual corner, exchanged glances. "Slave traders." Merlin muttered. "They should know better than to travel this close to Camelot. And they usually turn out to be more than we bargained for."

"Doesn't that happen with everything?" Gauis asked wryly.

He had a point.

* * *

At first, the journey was rather pleasant; at least in Merlin's opinion. The weather had cleared up nicely, the air was a nice temperature and smelled agreeably of trees and flowers. Of course, jolting up and down in the saddle all day wasn't the nicest sensation, but at least the conversation rarely slacked. After being rather cooped up in Camelot for days, the knights were clearly pleased to be out in the woods again.

"Honestly, though, Lady Anna is far better looking than Lady Irene!" Elyan exclaimed in protest to something Percival had just said.

"I think that Percival likes Irene better because she's taller." Leon snickered. "At least he doesn't have to bend double to kiss her!"

Percival shouted, "Hey!" in objection as the other knights laughed, Arthur included. Merlin grinned cheerfully. If only things were always this easy…

But they weren't; a fact that became terribly apparent a few minutes later when Arthur suddenly reined in his horse and put one hand in the air, effectively signaling the knights to stop. "Shh. Up ahead." he whispered.

The knights quickly dismounted and drew their weapons. Leaving their well-trained horses on the path, they began to creep quietly through the trees to the left.

They could all hear now the sounds of a camp nearby. Merlin frowned as he closely followed the knights; they slave traders, if this was them, were closer to Camelot than the knights had expected.

The knights moved swiftly over a small hill. From the top, they could look down through the trees into the camp.

Around ten or eleven men were in the clearing below. A couple were occupied with the campfire, one was apparently keeping watch nearby, while the rest were talking in low voices a few yards from the fire. Their horses were tethered to one side, and near them…

Merlin felt a surge of fury. Next to the horses were two young boys, not much older than thirteen. They were both bound at the wrists and feet as well as tied together to a tree for good measure. Even from a distance, Merlin could see that they were remarkably similar in appearance. _Brothers, definitely, possibly twins?_ One was watching his captors with wide eyes, the other was slumped in his bonds. Merlin could just make out a crude, bloodstained bandage around one of that boy's right arm.

"The beasts." hissed Percival softly. Merlin wholeheartedly agreed.

With a series of swift hand gestures, Arthur directed the knights to spread out and partially surround the clearing; Percival and Leon went to the left, Elyan and Gwaine went to the right. Merlin got a sinking feeling as he positioned himself closer to Arthur. _We should have brought more knights…_

Hopefully the element of surprise would be enough. And who knew? Maybe these slave traders would surrender without a fight. Not all of them actually fought for and captured their slaves, right?

No such luck. The moment Arthur strode into the clearing and demanded that the rogues declare themselves and their business, they went for their weapons.

Then all hell broke loose, as usual.

The Knights of the Round Table came charging into the clearing, yelling at the top of their lungs. Almost instantly the clearing became a chaos of clashing blades and shouting warriors.

Seeing that Arthur appeared to be handling the situation, Merlin dashed across the clearing toward the captives. On the way, he used magic to trip one of the slave traders who came at him with a mace.

Merlin turned from the groaning bandit to find one of the conscious boy's brown eyes fixed on him, a mixture of confusion and amazement. Merlin felt a sudden lurch in his stomach.

 _The boy had seen that._

There was no time to worry about that right now, however. Snatching a dagger from a nearby pack, Merlin hastened to cut the two boys loose.

While the unconscious one simply slumped onto the ground, the other shoved Merlin out of his way and stood up, shaking the ropes from his arms and legs. Grabbing the blade from Merlin, he charged at the slave trader Merlin had tripped, who had managed to push himself to his feet again. The boy slammed into him, knocking him flat with a couple well-aimed punches and kicks. Merlin watched, frozen, as the teenager unhesitatingly stabbed the man in the heart. Without wasting any time over it, he jumped back up, clearly ready for another confrontation.

The knights had already dispatched the other slave traders, but the boy did not relax or lower the bloodstained knife as they cautiously approached him. "Who are you?" he snarled menacingly.

Arthur sheathed his sword and held out his hands in a reassuring gesture. "We mean you no harm. We are Knights of Camelot; we only want to help you." When the boy still looked suspicious, Arthur motioned for the other knights to lower their weapons. "What's your name?" the king asked gently.

The boy glanced nervously around the semicircle of knights, then briefly back over his shoulder towards Merlin. "Everard." he finally said. "And I don't need help. My brother does." he lowered the dagger and gestured toward the other boy.

"Nice to meet you, Everard. I'm Arthur Pendragon." The boy started visibly in (recognition of the king's name, Merlin guessed), but said nothing. Arthur continued, "Merlin is the assistant to the court physician, he can help your brother, right, Merlin?" Merlin nodded, making sure that Everard noticed the gesture, before he turned to inspect the other boy.

Arthur sent the other knights to scout the area, checking for any other foes, before he joined Merlin and Everard by the injured boy's side. "What's his name?" Arthur asked the plainly worried brother.

"His name is Elwin." Everard reached out to gently touch his brother's shoulder. "He's my twin."

"I figured that was the case. You look so much alike."

Merlin, meanwhile, unwrapped the filthy bandage on Elwin's arm and examined the wound, which had clearly been made by a sharp blade. It wasn't terribly deep, but it was infected. As he felt Elwin's forehead, Merlin looked up at Arthur and Everard. "He's got a mild fever." he explained. "The injury is infected, but I've got some herbs in my saddlebag that should be enough to stop it from getting worse, at least until he can get him to Gaius."

"Who's Gaius?" demanded Everard, gripping the dagger he still held with renewed force.

"The court physician." Arthur explained. As the knights began to return to the clearing, the king called out, "It's too late to return to Camelot tonight. We'll dispose of the bodies and make camp here tonight. We head for the city at first light." Arthur turned back to the still-tense boy beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "It's alright." he said gently. "You and Elwin are safe now."

* * *

It was dark out. The only light from was the slender moon and silvery stars above, on the ground the glowing red campfire. Percival, Leon, Elyan, and Arthur were fast asleep, while Merlin was nodding off next to where the injured boy lay, still unconscious.

Gwaine had volunteered to take first watch mainly because he couldn't sleep. He would have done that anyway; out in the woods without sufficient ale to knock himself out, he had no desire to try sleeping only to wake every hour or so plagued by nightmares. He'd considered getting a sleeping draught from Gaius, but he'd tried those before and they gave him worse hangovers than alcohol. Besides, if it knocked him out too thoroughly, it could be dangerous; especially out of the city walls. He wouldn't be able to react as fast when woken, and that could mean severe injury or death more often than not.

But nightmares weren't his principal concern tonight.

For at least the hundredth time, his gaze drifted from the silent forest to where Everard lay next to his brother. It had taken an hour to convince the boy to put the dagger down, and even then he refused relax or to eat or drink much of what they offered him, so great was his concern over his twin.

Gwaine couldn't stop staring at him...at _them_. He'd suspected from the first moment he saw them; his gut had all but screamed recognition at him. When he'd heard their names, he'd been certain.

 _Everard. Elwin._

Gwaine groaned softly. They were how old now? Thirteen…no, fourteen. He was almost certain of it.

 _Such a drunkard now that you can't count the years?_

Oh, he could count the years all right. All ten of them.

 _Too damn many._

They hadn't really bothered with any more introductions; Everard was too distracted. Something Gwaine was thankful for.

 _It's too much to hope that they've never heard my name before, even if they don't remember me themselves._

And how in the world did they get to Camelot with slave traders in the first place?

 _Hell, Bernicia is four or five kingdoms away!_

That raised another disturbing question: If, say, they'd been traveling with someone else when they were captured by the slave traders, who had they been with? Who did the traders kill in order to get their hands on the twins?

 _Was it someone I know?_

With all his being he hoped not.

Eventually, after a couple more hours of restless thoughts, Gwaine was relieved from his watch by Percival. As he laid down on his bedroll, Gwaine struggled to keep himself from slipping into slumber. He really didn't want any bad dreams tonight, of all nights. But he was weary; it soon became a battle to keep his eyes open.

He eventually lost that battle.

* * *

 _"Please, Gwaine, one more piggyback ride! Please!" The little boy widened his big brown eyes pleadingly._

 _"Everard, you said one more three rides ago!"_

 _"But you said you promise to play with us_ all day _!"_

 _"It's almost nightfall, you silly kid! And anyway…Ouch! Elwin, stop pulling my hair! Aldwyn, help me!"_

 _An older boy, who was seated on a nearby bench, simply roared with laughter. "Oh, dear, it looks like the great warrior Gwaine has been defeated by two toddlers!"_

 _"Adwyn, you stupid prat! They're_ your _brothers; get them off of me!"_

 _"Aw, come on, Gwaine, you don't want to disappoint your youngest, most adorable cousins, do you?"_

 _"Yes, I do; if they're ripping out my hair! Arg!"_

 _But he couldn't help but laugh at the same time._

The present day Gwaine awoke to find his face wet with tears.

* * *

 **Okay, just a couple author's notes:**

 **One, sorry Gaius was in a bad mood during his appearance. Sometimes he just has a bad day. He'll be better during his next appearance.**

 **Two, let me know your thoughts! I can't very well improve my writing if I never find out what people think of it! So feel free to leave a review! (But please, no flaming)**

 **I hope you all have a nice day! (or night, depending on when you read this) :D**


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

* * *

 **Hello!**

 **This one's way shorter than usual; just a transition chapter, really.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

* * *

Merlin made sure to enter the court physician's chambers quietly. As he'd expected, Elwin was fast asleep on a cot in the corner, while Everard was slumped in a chair next to him. Gaius sat at the table, stirring up some sort of brownish potion. Merlin sat down across from him. "How are they?"

Gaius glanced over his shoulder at the twins. "They'll be fine. Elwin's fever broke; he'll recover quickly now. Everard seemed merely exhausted."

"He didn't sleep well last night and he wouldn't spare himself today; he was too worried for his brother." Merlin watched the sleeping boys for a minute, thinking.

The journey back to Camelot had been mostly uneventful. Elwin had woken a couple times on the way; frightened at first, but soon reassured by the presence of his twin. Everard had stayed by his side all day, refusing to let him out of his sight. Merlin couldn't help but admire his fierce devotion to his brother, but he did find Everard's stubbornness mildly frustrating. Oh, well, perhaps now that Elwin was recovering, Everard would relax a bit. He _had_ been through quite an ordeal.

Merlin was pulled from his musings by Gaius' questioning, "Is Arthur going to speak with them? Question them about where they're from?"

"Yeah, tomorrow. He said that they ought to get some rest." Merlin half-smiled. "That I agree with."

"As do I. Everard may not by injured, but he's clearly spent himself over the last few days…or weeks. There's no way to be sure until they tell us themselves…" Gaius paused, frowning slightly. "Did you notice their clothes, Merlin?"

Merlin shrugged. He'd been the one to fetch clean, new clothes for the boys, but he hadn't had a chance to examine their original garments. "No, not really. Why?"

"They were quite fine; simple, rather like the clothes nobles prefers for hunting trips, but the cloth was of high quality. When you looked underneath the crusted filth, that is. What those boys must've gone through…" Gaius trailed off with a sigh.

Merlin nodded, but said jokingly, "I didn't know you were an expert on clothes, Gaius!"

The physician chuckled and cuffed Merlin lightly on the shoulder. "I'm an old man, Merlin; I've picked up more knowledge than you know!"

Merlin snorted in amusement, but then asked seriously, "Do you think they're nobles?"

"It's possible." Gaius replied. "Did you notice; they look almost exactly alike, but their eyes are different colors?"

"Yeah, I did. Elwin's are grey, no brown." That had actually startled Merlin when the boy awoken the first time. "I wish they'd told us more before they decided to go to sleep…"

"Well, all we can do now is wait. What is the time? You ought to get to bed, Merlin, Arthur will want you up early tomorrow, I daresay."

Merlin nodded and stood up, but his stomach lurched as he suddenly remembered something that he'd forgotten to mention to Gaius before. "Oh, Gaius?"

"Yes, Merlin?"

"I think Everard saw me use magic."

* * *

Sir Gwaine slipped into his private chambers, locking the door behind him. Shrugging off his red cloak, he undid the ties of a leather pouch from his belt and tossed the small sack on his bed. He forced himself to get cleaned up first, discarding various articles of clothing until he was in comfortable trousers and a undershirt. He also washed his hands and face, wetting his hair and brushing it roughly from his face with his fingers. Then, and only then, did he retrieve the pouch and pull out the two small objects he'd taken from the slave traders' camp.

While helping to dispose of the bodies, he'd checked the pockets of the best-dressed slave trader (probably the leader) on a hunch. And as he'd expected, he found them.

At first glance, they were unremarkable, really. Two small silver pendants, dragon scale-shaped, on slender chains. And on the back of each one was etched a seven-pointed star.

 _Well, if you weren't sure before, you are now._ But his attempt at internal humor did nothing to lift the scowl from his face, or to relieve the churning in his stomach that had been there all day.

Dropping one of the baubles on the bed covers, he carefully took off the pendant he always wore around his own neck. He compared his with the one that he already held.

They were identical.

 _Just as I remember._

* * *

 **Okay, a couple things about the seven-pointed star:**

 **One, I really have no idea exactly what is on the back of Sir Gwaine's pendant in the show, but I do know that it's supposed to be his family crest or something like that (and I'm tying into that, sort of) And I haven't forgotten about the ring, either! :)**

 **Two, there are so many meanings for a seven-pointed star that I'm kind of going with my own meaning here. Besides, I happen to like the number seven and star shapes with any number of points, so I'm just going with it.**

 **Review, please? I'd really appreciate it!**


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

* * *

 **Hi, everyone!**

 **Life has been hectic, and this chapter was long, so it took a while. But I had a lot of fun with it on the way!**

 **Special thanks to Miss Elanious for the lovely review! And thanks to the rest who read/reviewed/favorited/followed this story!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

* * *

Merlin walked jauntily out of his bedroom early the next morning to find Everard at the table, stuffing bread and chicken from a plate in front of him into his mouth at a frantic rate. Apparently hearing Merlin's entrance, the boy whipped around, nearly choking on his food and reaching for his table knife.

At the embarrassed look on Everard's face upon realizing his mistake, Merlin laughed out loud. After a few moments of swallowing and coughing, Everard's beet red face relaxed into a sheepish smile. "Sorry." he muttered.

"That's okay." Merlin looked over at Elwin; he was still asleep. So he sat down next to Everard. He might as well be certain that this boy knew about his magic before he took any drastic measures to ensure Arthur didn't find out. First, though, he'd have to gain the boy's trust. "How's your brother?"

"He's all right. That physician, went out a few minutes ago to see another patient, but Elwin was awake then and Gaius said he was okay." Everard gazed worriedly at his brother for a moment. "He wasn't really hungry, but some servant brought this for me." His gaze moved to Merlin. "You're a servant, aren't you?"

"Manservant to King Arthur himself, yes." Merlin replied with a smile.

"Must be quite a hard job." Everard said lightly, returning his attention to what remained of his breakfast. A few moment later, he asked offhandedly, "Does your master know that you have magic?"

Merlin nearly had a heart attack. _They boy knew!_ Of course, Merlin had thought so already, as he'd told Gaius the night before…

 _"What if he tells Arthur?"_

 _"If he noticed your magic, Merlin, why did he say nothing to the knights that evening? Or all of today when he was in their company?"_

 _"He was concerned for his brother! He didn't even bother looking after himself; what if he just forgot what he saw? And remembers it when he speaks with Arthur?"_

Merlin's face must have betrayed his thoughts, for Everard said quickly, "I'm not going to tell anyone."

The warlock took a deep breath. "I want to believe that." The safety of his secret depended on trust, and he'd only met this boy a couple days before.

"Then why don't you?" Everard's brown eyes caught Merlin in a strangely compelling stare.

Scratching his head to gain a little time, Merlin finally said, "It's hard…knowing whom to trust."

Everard nodded. "I understand that." He popped a handful of grapes into his mouth. After a minute of thoughtful chewing, he said quietly, "Where I come from, they don't chop someone's head off just because he has magic."

Merlin, intrigued to say in the least, was about to press the boy for more information when the door burst open and Sir Gwaine stumbled in.

"Hullo, Gwaine!" Merlin said cheerfully, but then he noticed how pale the knight was, how shadowed his eyes were, and how shaky he seemed on his feet. A hangover? Not by a long shot. For one thing he wasn't squinting against the light streaming in through the windows. He eyes were wide; a little too much so.

"Is Gaius in?" Gwaine asked shortly. Merlin couldn't help but notice that the knight's eyes were looking at anything and everything but himself and Everard.

"No, he went out; can I help?" Merlin asked, slightly anxious. It really wasn't like Gwaine to act this way.

Gwaine muttered distractedly, "No…yes…maybe…I need a sleeping draught."

"Right now?" Merlin queried, confused.

"No, just by tonight…" Gwaine's gaze finally came to rest; on Elwin. And he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away.

"Um, okay." Merlin stammered. "I'll have Gaius mix one up…he's better at that sort of thing…er, what's it for?"

"Uh…What?" snapped Gwaine, shaking himself and looking at Merlin instead. Almost glaring, actually.

"The sleeping draught. What do you need it for?"

"Sleeping, what else?" Gwaine replied curtly.

"I think he means; what specifically is troubling you so that you need a sleeping draught? Sleeplessness? Bad dreams?" Both Merlin and Gwaine looked around at Everard. He was staring at Gwaine, his brow furrowed slightly.

Gwaine looked away from the boy, down at the floor. "I'll come back later." he mumbled, before storming out of the room without so much as a farewell.

Merlin shook his head in, partly in disbelief, partly in worry. "Sorry about him." he said to Everard. "He's usually not that unpleasant...actually, he's usually quite agreeable…I'd better be off. Can't keep the king waiting!" With that, Merlin headed for the door, only to be stopped by a sudden question from Everard.

"Merlin! Where is Gwaine from?"

Merlin turned, confused by Everard's tone. The boy's voice was rough, almost panicked. And his face was no different. "Um…I think told me he's from Caerleon? Why?"

Everard looked away. "It's nothing." he muttered. "You'd better hurry; the king, you know." He stood and went to check on his brother.

Merlin, knowing firsthand Arthur Pendragon's infamous impatience, hurried off to his duties, all the while wondering to himself w _hat on earth is going on?_

He was determined to find out.

* * *

Gwaine knew that he shouldn't have left like that. He knew that it simply encourage more questions from Merlin. And to be honest, Gwaine had seen just about as many of Merlin's questioning looks as he could stand.

That was why he couldn't talk about his nightmares with the servant. Gwaine was trying to treat them as he would treat an illness. If he asked Gaius for a sleeping draught, the old physician wouldn't press him for details. Merlin would. Merlin would want to know the reasons behind the bad dreams; reasons Gwaine couldn't bring himself to face.

He had barely slept the night before. Every time he closed his eyes and slipped into slumber, a nightmare would wake him minutes later. He hadn't had the chance to go to the tavern that evening, but even if he had, Gwaine felt that the nightmares would've come to haunt him just the same.

The dreams varied. Sometimes he was in Camelot, sometimes the forest, sometimes a tavern, or cave…but the outcome of the dream was always the same. Every time, he killed someone he cared about.

And then he was left staring at the silver blade coated in red blood.

Guinevere. Elyan. Percival. Leon. Arthur. Merlin. Other knights he was friends with. Sometimes even Gaius. It didn't matter who he murdered each time; just that he did. And last night, the twins had joined the host of people he slaughtered in his dreams.

 _Why?_

A question that still haunted him.

There were plenty of things he could say to reassure himself. Things including the fact that if he hadn't run all those years ago, there was every chance that Merlin, Arthur, and numerous others would all have gotten themselves killed years ago. He would have not come to Camelot and met all the men who were now his friends. Also, he had been knighted by King Arthur Pendragon himself. That had to count for something, right?

 _But they don't know you. Not really._

He'd lied to more than one of them. He'd also lied to himself; almost convincing himself of his false past, hoping to forget.

 _But I can't forget._ He might be a drunk much of the time, but his long-term memory was fine. Plus the nightmares kept his memories sharp and clear. And now the twins had shown up…

The worst was when he had to relive the day when it had all started. The day he'd done the unforgivable.

 _I killed my own father._

Gwaine had no idea how he'd gotten to the stables, into his stallion's stall. But as he was there now, he had no desire to leave. There was no one else around, for once.

So the dark-haired knight sunk down on the straw covered floor in a corner and allowed himself a few jerky, almost silent sobs.

* * *

Merlin had to hand it to Everard: The boy wasn't in the least intimidated by the nobles and knights of Camelot who were at the moment assembled in the Council Chamber Or at least, if he was frightened, he wasn't showing it.

Arthur started off the meeting with a couple polite inquires about Elwin's health. After receiving equally polite answers, the king questioned, "So, Everard; tell me. How did you and your brother run afoul of slave traders?"

Everard answered steadily, "We were out hunting. The slave traders crept up on us; surrounded us. We were taken prisoner quickly. I believe that they wanted to sell us in the south…so south we went. We were still headed in that direction when you rescued us."

"Where are you from?" asked the Guinevere, stepping forward. "There _is_ a lot of land north of Camelot."

Everard's customary serious expression was suddenly overtaken by a wide smile. "Yes, my lady, there is certainly a good deal of land north of here. Anyways," he continued, "Elwin and I are from Bernicia."

Gaius was the first to respond to that statement. "Bernicia? You're certainly a long way from home."

Arthur sighed. "I'm sorry you had to suffer at the hands of those slave traders for such a long journey."

Everard inclined his head slightly. "It was hardly your doing." he replied.

Merlin wondered vaguely where the boy had learned to speak so properly. He had a gracious yet proud air rather like Arthur himself.

Everard spoke again. "As it is, I must thank you and your knights for rescuing my brother and I. We are deeply indebted to you."

Arthur nodded in return. "You are most welcome." Turning to the court physician, he asked, "Gaius, how much longer until Elwin is fully healed?"

"About two weeks, Sire." Gaius said. "Probably a little longer to be sure."

Arthur looked back at Everard. "Once your brother has recovered, we shall arrange for you to be escorted home."

Merlin could've sworn that the boy went a shade paler than usual. "That is not necessary, my lord." he said quickly.

"But we can't let you two go off on your own!" cried Gwen.

"Don't even think about arguing." Arthur said with slight smile. "We'll be escorting you home."

Just then, Merlin saw Gwaine slip into the room. Oddly, he remained in a back corner, apparently trying to blend in with the stone behind him. He appeared disheveled and tired.

Everard narrowed his eyes. " _We?_ " he questioned.

"The knights and I." Arthur said dismissively. "Until then, you two will remain as honored guests."

After a tense moment, Everard said politely, "As Your Majesty wishes. I thank you again on the behalf of myself and my brother."

 _Is it my imagination, or did Gwaine just look terrified when Arthur said "The knights and I?"_

No, it couldn't have been Merlin's imagination.

* * *

This tavern in the tiny village near the border wasn't the nicest one in Mercia. Or anywhere.

Seated as inconspicuously as possible at a corner table, Elen brushed a strand of golden hair from her face before emptying the last of her ale down her throat. Standing gracefully, she dropped a few coins on the table, pulled on her thick brown cloak, and hurried outside. Unsavory place that this was, she wanted to check her horse before she went to bed.

The mostly clouded sky outside was growing dark. The thick grass that covered the ground was wet from an earlier rain shower. As Elen was about to duck inside the stable doorway, she paused briefly, but gave no other indication that she'd heard the stealthy footsteps behind her.

Entering and quickly locating her white mare amongst the other beasts, Elen walked over and stroked the animal's nose. "Hello, gorgeous." she cooed. "I brought you an apple."

The horse accepted the treat eagerly, munching away loudly as Elen gave her one last pat before leaving the stable.

When the man accosted her in the yard between the stable and the main inn building, Elen wasn't in the least surprised.

He was big, at least a head taller than Elen herself, and broad shouldered. His clothing was tattered, and he wore a knife in his belt. He easily blocked her path back to the tavern door. Grinning, he sneered, "Hello, pretty."

Elen wrinkled her nose. He was only a foot from her, and his breath was foul. "What do you wan?" she asked quietly, though she knew already.

 _It doesn't take a logician to figure it out._

That almost brought a smile to her face as the man jeered, "I've 'ad my eyes on you all evening, ya know."

"No, I didn't." She was really smiling now, enjoying the delicious justice of it all; of what would soon come to this filthy . "Now if you'll excuse me…" she made to step past him.

The man grabbed her arm, baring his rotten teeth. "No woman walks away from Greg!" he snarled, his grip becoming tighter.

Instead of struggling, Elen stopped and faced Greg with an almost cruel smile on her face. " ** _W_** ** _áce_** ** _ierlic._** "

The man was thrown backwards across the yard. He collided with a wooden post, fell to the ground, and lay still. Not dead, she thought, but he'd have quite a headache when he woke.

Elen snorted in amusement as she headed back inside. But as she entered the tavern once more, her smile faded as she saw a scrawny, dark-haired man, whom she had spoken to earlier, making his way towards her. She gestured for him to join her in a secluded corner. "Well?" she asked softly.

The man glanced around before replying. "A troupe of slave traders passed through this village a couple weeks ago. They had two boys with them; in their teens."

Elen felt a surge of fury, but held it in check. "Where were they headed?" she asked through clenched teeth.

"South. No more specifics, I'm afraid, except…" The rouge lowered his voice even further. "The traders boasted that they had a client, a wealthy and powerful one, who was going to pay well for those particular boys."

Elen frowned, handing her informant a pouch heavy with gold coins. "Thank you." she murmured. The man nodded in reply and disappeared into the crowd.

Elen headed for the staircase, and her room, in an enraged mood.

 _"…they had a customer, a wealthy and powerful one, who was going to pay well for those particular boys."_

So it had been planned; not a random snatch at all. She'd have to send word to Aldwyn.

But as she entered the room she had paid for earlier, Elen clenched her jaw and smiled grimly to herself. _Whoever wants the twins is going to regret it,_ she thought.

 _Because no one messes with the Barclayns._

* * *

 **That spell was actually used in a Merlin episode (see if you can guess which one...).**

 **I invented the name Barclayns (based off the old English name _Barclay,_ which I chose just because I liked it); any relation to an actual family/place/person/thing is entirely unintentional (there actually is a Scottish clan called Barclay, but the Barclayns aren't supposed to have any relation to that). And this Barclayn family of my invention will be discussed further in future chapters (and yes, it's a family, not some magical order or other). Okay, now I've gone on way to long...**

 **Anyway, any guesses on who Elen is (besides a Barclayn...hehe)? Reviews appreciated!**

 **Thanks again for reading!**


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

* * *

 **Hello!**

 **This one was a lot of fun for me! I hope you enjoy it!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

* * *

Merlin was plotting.

To anyone else, it would simply appear that he was leaning on a stack of wooden targets, watching the knights train. But inwardly he was plotting on how to interrogate Gwaine.

Merlin had been concerned about his friend for weeks, but now he was certain that the knight's odd behavior had drastically intensified since the twins' arrival.

For the past few days, Elwin, still mostly confined to bed, had been driving both Gaius and Merlin mad with his trivial, constant questions. And his tricks; forbidden to leave the physician's chambers, he'd taken to pulling pranks that didn't involve him moving very far from his bed. The latest had been to slip extra pepper into Gaius and Merlin's stew.

Everard had scolded his brother thoroughly for that, but Elwin had simply ducked his head and grinned sheepishly. Merlin and Gaius had gotten the impression that this happened quite a lot, and Everard's muttered comment "…always getting into trouble…" confirmed it.

While Elwin was already showing himself to be utterly annoying (well, and amusing) to everyone he spoke with, Everard was managing to charm almost everyone in the castle. He still carried himself with an noticeable proud air, but he had excellent manners and had no reservations about using them.

He still spent time with his brother (and slept on the floor next to Elwin's bed, despite having been offered other quarters), but he also spent ample time exploring the castle and city as well tagging along with the knights. He rarely asked questions, but appeared to listen carefully. Most of the knights seemed to like having him around, and he had begun to join them on the training field.

In fact, while Merlin was scheming, Everard was engaged in an enthusiastic skirmish with Sir Leon. Though he was shorter than the knight and not nearly as experienced, the boy clearly knew how to use a sword, plus his footwork was excellent. Even Merlin could see that.

But there was a knight missing from the training field, just as he had been since Everard started coming.

Merlin was convinced that the appearance of the twins had driven Gwaine into whatever seclusion he was imposing on himself. He barely left his chambers except for necessary duties and those were few. After pestering Gaius for a while, Merlin had finally discovered why Gwaine wanted a sleeping draught: Nightmares. About what, Gaius didn't know.

Of course, this raised more questions than before. Where did these nightmares spring from? Why were they so terrible that Gwaine couldn't speak to anyone about it? How on earth were the twins involved? Why was their presence making it worse than before?

Finding the right questions to ask was one thing. Getting Gwaine to answer them would be quite another. Which was why Merlin was taking so long to formulate a plan. He'd come up with a few so far, only to discard them as worthless.

 _Take Gwaine to a tavern and get him drunk enough to talk._

The most obvious plan was probably the most impossible one at the moment. From what Merlin had heard, the often-drunk knight had, over the last few days, flatly refused to go to the tavern whenever Percival, Elyan, and Leon had asked.

 _Corner him and ask him outright._

Considering how his last similar attempt had gone, Merlin wasn't eager to do it. A cornered Gwaine could be a mighty force, even if Merlin asked Percival and Elyan to help.

 _Blackmail him somehow._

That just wouldn't be fair; Merlin didn't ever want to do that to a friend. Not like that. Plus he couldn't really think of anything he could blackmail Gwaine with that would work.

 _Make the other knights ask him._

Same problem as Merlin asking straight out.

 _Take it to the king._

Definite betrayal, or at least that's what it would be in Gwaine's eyes. Merlin really didn't want to possibly lose his friend that way…besides, Arthur might not even take the whole business seriously. Or not seriously enough, anyways.

 _Try to ease into it?_

If he could catch Gwaine at a vulnerable moment…maybe...

Merlin's musings were interrupted by an outbreak of cheers on the sparring field. Looking up, Merlin saw Leon, looking rather out of breath, helping a panting Everard up from the ground. Arthur and the knights gathered around, laughing and clapping both opponents on the shoulders. Apparently Leon had won the match, but Everard had put up a fight. Merlin grinned and walked out to join them (supposedly to help them with any weapon or armor malfunctions, but really to join in the fun of the moment).

He'd decide how to tackle Gwaine later.

* * *

Gwaine slipped quietly out of his chambers, hurrying down the castle halls towards the training grounds.

It was getting late, but he still wanted to practice with his swordsmanship and knife throwing and by now the other knights would have left along with Everard.

 _Hopefully._

He managed to get out of the castle without being seen by anyone but a couple servants. But when he stopped by the armory to get a practice sword, he turned from the rack to find Everard standing in front of him.

Gwaine jumped, but struggled to conceal his deeper fear. "Hello, young Everard." he said as jauntily as he could manage, considering the circumstances. "How's your brother?"

He tried to keep his voice light, impersonal. But something of his very real anxiety must have seeped through in his tone, because Everard narrowed his eyes in clear suspicion. "He's fine." the boy replied stiffly, tossing his shaggy light brown hair out of his eyes.

Noting the glance Everard gave the blade in Gwaine's hand, the knight said quickly, "Since I missed training, I thought I'd go tear up a couple practice dummies." When Everard simply stared at him for a few moments longer, he added casually, "How's Camelot treating you then?" His voice came out strained and unnatural, despite his best efforts. Years of practice bantering didn't serve him now, not when the past was pretty much literally coming back to haunt him.

"The people are nice enough." Everard replied evenly. "Even the Pendragon."

 _The Pendragon._ It had been years since Gwaine had heard the king of Camelot referred to like that. Though back then it had been Uther, not Arthur. "King Arthur's a decent fellow."

"Hmm." Everard stepped aside, gesturing for Gwaine to leave if he wished. Relieved that the boy was giving him a way out, the knight hurried out past him toward the training field.

But he froze at the door when he heard Everard ask softly, "Is that why you serve him, _cousin_?"

By the time Gwaine managed to turn himself around, the boy had left through another doorway.

That night was the first in years during which Gwaine woke up screaming.

* * *

Most people didn't like wyverns.

Hayden couldn't see why, really. Once you got past the razor-sharp claws, the pointed teeth, the glowing red eyes, and the notoriously foul temper, they weren't actually that bad at all.

At least, that's what Hayden thought. But then, he didn't have the last name Wyverndomitor for nothing. Wild ones…the ones with less intelligence then a fish…he didn't get along with those. His, now; his wyverns he could handle. Usually.

"Remind me again why I must take care of your pets while you run off to goodness knows where." Ryle glowered at Hayden with dark hazel eyes barely visible behind unkempt black hair. "You do realize that they hate me, right?"

"They don't hate you! Emerald is defensive, that's all." Hayden replied calmly.

"What about that scaly baby in the bushes over there? Peridot, right?" Ryle glanced suspiciously at the cat-sized creature rolling in the grass a few feet away.

"Topaz is the baby's name; Peridot's a adolescent now, Ryle." Hayden sighed. "You've been gone a while."

"Humph. Why must I baby-sit, then? Can't you just find someone else?"

"Well, you're the only person I trust with them, you know…"

"I suppose I should be flattered." muttered Ryle darkly.

"….so unless you want take a little trip south again to find Elen Barclayn…"

"That's the other option? Why didn't you say so?" Ryle laughed.

"Why? So you'll watch my wyverns?" Hayden asked hopefully.

"No, I'm going after that Barclayn lass. Lord knows what she'll do if someone doesn't." Ryle made a face.

Hayden frowned. "You'll have to travel with Aldwyn, and possibly Haralda."

Ryle chuckled. "Trust me, Hay, I've faced worse than his gallivanting highness Aldwyn and her strutting highness Haralda." Ryle shrugged. "I think you're baby is getting bored, by the way."

Hayden raised his eyebrows at his cousin-thankfully-several-times-removed as he strode over to his horse tethered nearby. As he swung into the saddle, Ryle called, "Where do I meet their audacious highnesses?"

"The city, of course. They'll be expecting me."

"Well, they'd better stop expecting you." Ryle turned his horse around. As he urged the beast into a gallop, he called over his shoulder, "Oh! Almost forgot! When I was down south before I may have seen G…" The wind blew away the rest of his sentence as he and his horse disappeared down the road.

Hayden sighed before calling Topaz over to him with a sharp whistle. The creature scampered over and scrambled up to drape himself over Hayden's shoulders. "That Ryle. But I hope he finds Elen; can't have her going after whoever abducted the twins by herself, can we?" He laughed as the young wyvern nuzzled his cheek. "You glad I'm not going with them, eh, little one? I wonder who he thinks he saw down south?" Hardly burdened by the weight of the animal on his shoulders, Hayden started down the road back to his dwelling. A couple minutes later, he froze solid, staring at nothing as an positively insane thought occurred to him.

"Why, Topaz, he couldn't have seen _Gwaine_ , could've he?"

* * *

 **Okay, I know, that last section was totally out there. But I've had it in my head for days now and I just had to put it in. I appear to be developing an unhealthy obsession with wyverns :D But it all plays into the story, you'll see.**

 **Review?**


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

* * *

 **Hello!**

 **I'm too tired to think much right now, so I'll just say that I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

* * *

Merlin had honestly thought that having Elwin awake but confined to the physician's chambers was bad.

But it was much worse when Elwin was allowed to move about the castle. Now there was no escaping him; he was bound to turn up anywhere at any given moment.

He never stopped talking; prattling, really. When he wasn't asking questions, he was jabbering on about nothing in particular, with subjects ranging from the color of Camelot's flag to what had been for dinner the night before.

Gaius may have forbidden the boy to overexert himself, but Elwin got around that by finding all the shortest routes to various parts of the castle. He didn't need to run to get from place to place quickly. Often he dragged a clearly annoyed Everard along on his forays, which included sneaking food from the kitchens.

As he was also banned from training with his brother and the knights until further notice, Elwin had that morning fashioned a makeshift slingshot and had been firing tiny clods of dirt at unsuspecting squires on the training field.

He'd been doing that just before Arthur sent Merlin off to change his clothes (the servant had been mucking out the stables earlier and hadn't had the time to change for a while; apparently Arthur's nose had been extremely offended, even outdoors). The last thing Merlin had heard as he headed back to the court physician's chambers was Everard scolding Elwin roundly for hitting Sir Elyan on the back of the head with a particularly well-aimed projectile.

"Can't you stay out of trouble for ten minutes? We're supposed to be their guests; and you're acting like a curse!"

"It didn't hurt him, right? I wouldn't want to hurt anyone…"

"Oh, really? I honestly don't think Gaius and Merlin's stomachs have yet recovered from that onslaught of pepper…"

This had made everyone in the vicinity laugh.

The unfortunate part, Merlin reflected, was that nobody could stay angry with Elwin for long. He was too good-natured (though mischievous) and too comical to hold a serious grudge against. Unlike his naturally serious, polite twin brother, Elwin was as impish as a goblin and as affable as a drunken Gwaine; therefore he was extremely hard to dislike.

Speaking of Gwaine…

Merlin had just reached the doorway to Gaius' chambers when he heard Gwaine's voice. He halted, listening intently.

"I know what you told me, Gaius, but it's not working." The knights voice was rough, strained. Merlin frowned.

"Did you take it all? Perhaps the dosage was not sufficient." the old physician replied calmly.

"Oh, hell, it was sufficient all right! I go to sleep and can't wake up; so then I'm stuck in a nightmare and can't escape, can't even rouse myself…so, yeah, Gaius, the dosage was plenty damn sufficient!"

Merlin's jaw dropped. Gwaine sounded so unlike his usual humorous, joking self that it was almost hard to believe that it was the same person.

There was silence for a while, eventually punctuated by the sounds of movement and clanking bottles. Merlin strained his ears, but there was no talking until Gaius said, "Here. This will induce deeper sleep; hopefully it should help."

Presumably, Gwaine took the remedy before mumbling, so quietly that Merlin could barely make it out, "I'm sorry. It's just…"

"It's alright, Gwaine. Let me know if this potion helps."

"Thank you."

Realizing that the knight was about to exit the physician's chambers, Merlin hastily ducked into a nearby doorway and waited for Gwaine to pass. Then he went back to find Gaius muttering to himself over some bubbling concoction. "Ah, Merlin." he said before sniffing suspiciously. "Have you been rolling in dung?"

"Cleaning the stables. I came in to change clothes."

"Naturally. We can't have you serving the king's dinner while smelling like a troll, can we?" Gaius chuckled.

Merlin grinned briefly before asking bluntly, "What's wrong with Gwaine?"

Gaius looked up from whatever concoction he was brewing. "He suffers from nightmares, Merlin. I don't know anyone who hasn't at some point or another. It's nothing serious."

"Well, he seems to take it pretty seriously." Merlin retorted mildly. When his mentor did not respond, Merlin added more edgily, "He's been off for a while now, but he's been acting worse since the twins came to Camelot. Why is that, do you think?"

"I have no idea." Gaius replied. "Except…Merlin, did Everard ever ask you any questions about Gwaine?"

"Only where he was from. Why?"

"What did you tell him?"

Merlin furrowed his brow. "Only what Gwaine told me; Caerleon, originally. What did Everard ask you?"

Gaius rummaged around in a nearby stack of books and papers for a minute before handing Merlin a scrap of parchment. Examining it, the warlock saw a rough sketch of Gwaine's silver pendant, the one he always wore. "Everard drew that." Gaius said quietly. "Two nights ago, when the boys were moved to chambers elsewhere in the castle, I was cleaning up and found it under the cot. If there were any others, I think he may have burned them. And he's been questioning me surreptitiously about Gwaine, too; or at least he was. Until a few days ago. Then he stopped mentioning him completely." Gaius sighed. "The reason why I haven't discussed it with you yet, Merlin, is because I knew you'd start harassing Gwaine about it and as his physician I didn't think it advisable."

Merlin shook his head slightly. "Something's really weird about this, Gaius. Gwaine's nightmares, all Everard's questions…" He paused as another thought hit him. "Wait, Everard's been with the knights a lot lately, and they've told plenty of stories about Gwaine…but he hasn't been around…"

"You know Merlin, you ought to talk to him." Gaius said after a long pause.

"Who; Gwaine or Everard?"

"Gwaine. He's your friend, isn't he?"

"But you said…"

"That's when I believed that Gwaine's nightmares and restlessness had something to do with a physical aliment. I don't believe that now."

Merlin groaned. "Gaius, I tried talking to him already. Before the twins arrived. He just about took my head off. I suppose I could ask one of the knights…Elyan or Percival maybe…"

"But you're his oldest friend, Merlin. You know him the best."

That, thought Merlin, was only too true.

But if he could get Gwaine to talk…and if it would actually help…wouldn't a few angry words from the knight be worth it?

* * *

Sir Gwaine was headed down to the stables in a preoccupied haze when he collided with someone else coming around a corner.

"Ow!" both of them yelled at once as they simultaneously lost their balance. Gwaine managed to hold himself up against a wall, but the other person fell down with a disgruntled yelp on his backside.

"Sorry!" Gwaine said hurriedly, moving forward to help the other individual up, but stopping dead when he saw who it was.

Elwin jumped to his feet easily enough without assistance, seeming very cheerful despite the circumstances. "S'okay. Didn't hurt. Just surprised me, that's all." He dusted himself off, a broad grin appearing on his face. "You're a knight, aren't you? I haven't really met you yet, I don't think. Were you one of the ones who rescued us? Most of the others call me a nuisance, but they laugh at my jokes. What's your name again?" He watched Gwaine expectantly.

Gwaine opened his mouth to reply, but then froze. Had Everard told Elwin…If not, maybe he could lie…

But Elwin was already eyeing Gwaine curiously. "Do I know you?" he asked suddenly.

Gwaine swallowed hard. "I was one of the knights who rescued you." he replied. "The name's Gwaine."

Elwin's reaction was immediate; his eyes widened briefly and his mouth fell open for a moment. But he soon got himself under control and said smoothly, "Nice to meet you." He held out his hand.

Gwaine shook it, feeling rather dazed. By God, give Elwin darker hair and a few more inches of height and he'd be the spitting image of Aldwyn. Everard, too, except his eyes were brown, not grey…

 _Like their father's. Like my father's. Like mine._

Elwin was talking again. "Gaius says I shouldn't be running around and exerting myself, but if _you_ ran into _me_ then it surely doesn't count…"

"Elwin!" Everard came up. "Where on earth did you…" He stopped. " _Sir_ Gwaine." he said in an icy tone, putting extra emphasis on the _sir_. Turning back to his brother, he scolded, "You're supposed to go to Gaius and get more medicine, remember?"

"I was. Until I ran into Sir Gwaine here…or he ran into me…or…"

Everard ignored his excuses. "Come on, I'm taking you to Gaius now." Grabbing his brother's arm, Everard began to drag his protesting twin ("I don't need more medicine; my arm hasn't bled for days…") in the direction of the physician's chambers, calling over his shoulder as an afterthought, "The Pendragon has been asking around for you." Again, that disdainful inflection on _the Pendragon_.

Gwaine lost his temper; not an usual occurrence these days. "Don't speak of the king like that!" he shouted.

Everard spun around, pulling his hapless twin around with him. "Did you have to yell that? Or are you afraid that the king with take off _someone's_ head?"

Elwin got a bewildered expression on his face, but Gwaine felt a chill as he realized exactly what Everard must be referring to. Or rather, who. And he found that he couldn't answer.

After a few moments, Everard sighed and hauled his now-questioning brother away.

As the boys disappeared from his view, two thoughts, each accompanied by its own set of emotions, kept going through Gwaine's head.

One, with concern and pity: _He's scared as hell, being stuck in Camelot._

Two, with anger and fear: _How dare he drag my sister into this?_

* * *

As a rule, Ryle didn't like traveling with companions. Traveling in a group involved agreeing with others about what route to take, waiting for stragglers (there was always one at some point), and haggling over first watch. He much preferred to be alone.

Still, his present companions weren't all that bad. Aldwyn might be a bit of a know-it-all, but he had a very good sense of humor, not to mention superior skill with a sword.

As for Lady Cleva…Well, Ryle would have preferred to have Haralda (she was an excellent huntress and deadly with a throwing axe), but Cleva could cook better.

At the moment, the black-haired damsel was stirring a pot of stew over the campfire while his royally-disobedient-highness Aldwyn sharpened his sword. Ryle leaned back against a pile of saddlebags, humming softly to himself. "Not a bad evening." he said after a while. "Where are we going again?"

"Do you ask things like that just to hear the sound of your own voice?" replied Cleva serenely, without raising her eyes from the soup. Ryle snorted; she had a sense of humor too, then.

"According to Elen's last message, she was in Mercia. Slave traders were taking Everard and Elwin south. Some special customer." Aldwyn's voice was steady, but tight with worry. Of course; they were his brothers, after all.

 _Typical Barclayns._ Ryle thought to himself. _Annoying each other to no end, but if you even try to harm just one the rest will be after you sure as sunset._

He wondered, briefly, if he should tell Aldwyn who he'd seen on his last jaunt through Camelot.

 _Better not,_ he decided after some deliberation. No need to add extra hassle to this rescue mission.

While Cleva announced that dinner was ready and divvied up the stew, Ryle thought wryly that Gwaine would probably just pull another disappearing act, anyway.

 _Besides, Aldwyn and the rest would all have heart attacks if I told them that Gwaine is now a knight of Camelot._

* * *

 **Review?**


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

* * *

 **Hello, everyone!**

 **Special thanks to all those who have read/reviewed/favorited/followed this story!**

 **NerdGirlAlert: This was a quick update! :)**

 **g02sleep: I'm glad someone picked up on the hints... :D**

* * *

It had been yet another busy day, and Merlin was more than ready to head back to Gaius' rooms for dinner.

Arthur had had Merlin running errands all morning and then had dragged him along on a short patrol around the city walls. Thankfully the king hadn't planned any training for the knights; Merlin thought personally that Gwaine had something to do with that.

The previous day, shortly after Merlin had changed his smelly clothes and returned to the training field, Gwaine had shown up. Arthur had apparently ordered that he come join the knights, and Gwaine hadn't taken it well.

Actually, the king and the knight had started shouting at each other in front of everyone else.

 _"When I ask my knights to be present at training I mean_ all _of my knights, Sir Gwaine!"_

 _"I haven't been feeling well, as I'm sure Gaius told you!"_

 _"Yes, a week ago, maybe! You look fine to me now!"_

 _"Should I really have to join training at all? Or have you found something wrong with the way I handle my sword?"_

 _"That's not the point!"_

 _"You incorrigible royal!"_

 _"You idiotic drunkard!"_

After they'd both shouted themselves hoarse (Gwaine's abuse growing increasingly vulgar as Arthur's insults turned into threats of banishment), the king had called an abrupt end to training as Gwaine stormed off the training field. He hadn't been seen since.

Which was the reason Merlin kept getting waylaid on his way to his anticipated supper.

Leon was the first to show up. "Merlin! Have you seen Sir Gwaine?"

Merlin stopped momentarily to answer the knight. "No, I'm afraid I haven't. Why?"

"No one's seen him. I'll check the armory…" Leon strode off, muttering. Merlin continued on his way, only to be halted when Percival stepped into his path.

"Have you seen Gwaine anywhere, Merlin?" the large knight asked.

"No, sorry."

"I was just headed down to the tavern and I'd thought I'd ask him if he felt up to joining me." Percival shrugged. "See you, Merlin."

"Bye." Merlin was crossed the courtyard and was almost to the staircase that led to the court physician's chambers when Elyan appeared. "Merlin! Have you seen…"

"Gwaine? No, I'm afraid not." By now, Merlin was getting worried himself. Remembering Percival's comment, he added, "Have you checked the tavern?"

"I've just come from there. He hasn't been there for a while." Elyan frowned. "If you see him, tell him we asked after him."

"Of course." Merlin's desire to fill his grumbling stomach was dulled by concern for his friend. "He hasn't been himself."

"Not at all. I'm afraid that he may have taken Arthur's banishment threats yesterday too seriously." Elyan sighed.

At that, Merlin got an idea. "Maybe Gwaine went to visit a tavern in an outlying village? Where no one would be looking for him?"

Elyan shook his head. "I checked the stables; no horses are missing and his stallion is still there. I'm really worried about him, Merlin."

Merlin ran his hand through his black hair. "All right, if no one sees him by noon tomorrow, then we go looking."

Elyan nodded. "Even Arthur will be worried if he's missing for that long."

A couple minutes later, Merlin entered Gaius' chambers to find dinner on the table, but the old physician poring over a dusty pile of parchment. He looked up when the younger man entered. "Ah! Merlin! Come here and look at this!"

Just then Merlin only wanted his supper, but he sighed and reluctantly went to join his mentor.

Gaius explained, "Ever since those boys said they were from Bernicia, I've been planning to research that country. I remembered that Uther wouldn't have anything to do with that kingdom and now I know why!" He tapped a page triumphantly. "It's far away, yes, but also; Bernicia is one of the few known kingdoms that has never banned magic."

"Really?" Merlin forgot about food temporarily and bent over the papers. "What's this?" He pointed to a light drawing that had caught his eye; a seven-pointed star above a wolf on a page of scribbled observations about weather and geography.

"Royal crest of Bernicia." Gaius answered. "According to various sources, during the Great Purge, many sorcerers fled to Bernicia to escape persecution. Though there were harsh punishments in place for those who used magic in a way that angered the king there…"

"Of course!" Merlin cried suddenly. "Everard said, 'Where I come from, they don't kill people because they have magic'. Or something like that. That's why he's keeping his mouth shut about me…"

"And doing it well." Gaius commented. "That could also be why he was initially reluctant to agree to Arthur's plan to have the knights escort the twins home…Perhaps they have friends with magic and don't want to offend the king of Camelot…"

"Who saved their lives." Merlin finished.

They stared at each other for a moment, contemplating the possibilities, when Merlin's stomach rumbled loudly.

"Definitely time for dinner, then." Gaius chuckled as Merlin grimaced and grinned at the same time.

* * *

Merlin found the missing knight on his way back from checking on the king and queen.

He had a habit of going to see Arthur and Gwen after his own dinner, just to make sure that they had everything they needed for the night. That night even Arthur had seemed content, so Merlin was soon headed off to his own bed.

While passing a spot where the main hallway intersected with a smaller one, he heard a crunching noise, which he quickly recognized as the sound of someone biting into an apple. Pausing, Merlin called down the dark corridor, unlit by any torches, "Hello?"

"Merlin?"

Feeling a weight leave him, Merlin hurried a few yards down the hallway to find Gwaine, dressed in his street clothes, lounging on a low windowsill, a half-eaten apple in hand. "Gwaine! Where have you been?"

In the dim moonlight coming through the window, Merlin could tell that the knight's usual smile was again absent. "Around." he said vaguely in reply to Merlin's query. "Mostly down in the caves below the city; interesting to explore, though I got a little claustrophobic at one point…"

Merlin sat down on the other end of the stone windowsill. "We've been worried."

"Sorry about that. I just didn't think the Princess would want to see me after yesterday." Gwaine wouldn't meet Merlin's eyes. His voice sounded so flat, so tired.

"Come on, Gwaine, Arthur's just a temperamental, royal…clotpole. He'll get over it."

Gwaine laughed bitterly. "Why should he?"

"Well…" Merlin said uneasily, "Um…you're one of his best knights. He trusts you with his life."

Gwaine's next words were so soft that Merlin almost missed them. "He shouldn't."

"What?"  
Finally, Gwaine met Merlin's gaze. His shadowed brown eyes were full of pain. "No one should trust me. Ever."

Merlin didn't know how to reply. So he asked, "Why, Gwaine?"

The dark-haired knight took a shaky breath. "Because I can't trust myself."

Merlin frowned. How was he supposed to respond to that? What could he say to help? "Gwaine, you're one of the most trustworthy people I've met when things get serious. When it comes to your friends, you would do anything to help them. You're brave…"

"Foolhardy, you mean."

"Not always. Like when you stayed behind with Gaius, when Morgana attacked Camelot. You weren't foolhardy then, just incredibly brave. You could've run but you didn't."

A soft scoff from Gwaine told the young warlock that he wasn't helping. So Merlin allowed a few moments of silence to pass before he asked, rather aimlessly "What is it with you an apples, Gwaine?" He didn't really expect an answer; he didn't even know why he'd asked.

Gwaine glanced down at the previously forgotten fruit in his hand. After a moment, he replied, "My childhood home was surrounded by an apple orchard. Most of them were young trees that had grown on their own, but there was this one row of really old ones that had been planted intentionally that way. My sister and I used to race from one end of the row to the other; we weren't allowed to touch the ground the whole time. We only stopped doing that when I broke my arm…I think I was eleven…"

Merlin was stunned, to be honest. He'd asked a pointless question and already it was getting a more open answer than any of his other inquires.

Gwaine hadn't stopped talking. "Mother shouted at us for about an hour, plus my arm really did hurt, so we stopped racing after that…but we still climbed the trees all the time." He smiled faintly. "I guess that's why I like apples so much. They taste like home."

He went quiet again. Finally Merlin worked up the nerve to ask, "Why are you so scared of Everard and Elwin, Gwaine?"

"The twins?" Gwaine's slight smile disappeared. Eventually, he replied hesitantly, "They…they remind me of an incident that I regret. Hell, more than regret…" Merlin could've sworn that Gwaine's eyes got suspiciously bright. "It's more of an event that destroyed me, Merlin..." Suddenly, he stopped and stood up. "Goodnight, Merlin." he said, striding away before Merlin could even react.

* * *

 _What the bloody hell were you thinking?_

Gwaine groaned loudly as he threw himself, fully clothed, on his bed. What _had_ he been thinking?

 _Merlin would hate you if he knew the truth about you._

Which was why he should never have let his guard down. But he'd been alone all day, he was feeling more depressed than ever, and then Merlin somehow got him talking about the apple orchard at home and he and his sister climbing the trees…

 _I can't let him corner me again. Lord only knows what I'll let slip._

Over the last decade, Gwaine had slowly built up a solid wall around himself; a wall of jokes, sarcasm, and yes, lies. Invulnerability, that had been his aim. No one could get past his hardened exterior and see the darkness beneath.

Then Merlin and Arthur and those bloody knights of Camelot had to show up and get around it.

He was no longer invulnerable. He couldn't even pretend to be.

That was the real reason that he had stayed out of sight all day. Contrary to some people's beliefs, he did care about his reputation; his reputation as the jovial, lackadaisical Knight of the Round Table. An often-drunk womanizer in chain mail. A scoundrel in a red cloak. Impervious to the opinions of others.

What he really felt like at the moment was a child scared of being punished.

 _Blast Everard for having a gaze that goes straight through a person._

Though really, Gwaine did deserve to be punished. He knew that. Maybe if he'd stayed put that day…But he'd run. He'd slipped off without even trying to face the consequences.

 _You're a murderer…_

Gwaine lurched from his bed and rummaged around to find the sleeping potion from Gaius. He hadn't slept at all last night.

Ignoring the label on the potion, he drunk the entire bottle at once. Then he fell back on his bed, waiting for it to pull him into hopefully-dreamless slumber.

 _You don't deserve to live._

Gwaine buried his face in his pillow, a few tears leaking from his eyes.

Earlier that day, he'd found the same cavern where, according to the stories, the Great Dragon had been held captive for years and years before he finally escaped. He had wandered around it a bit, thinking about escape.

 _Why can't I escape?_ Gwaine felt like a prisoner; a prisoner in his own self.

Perhaps there was a way out: death. But he'd been down this road before; he was too much of a coward to face death like that.

Just like he had been too much of a coward ten years ago.

As the potion started to take effect, Gwaine found himself whispering brokenly into his pillow.

"I didn't mean to, I swear…Father, I'm so sorry…"

* * *

"Gaius, please tell my brother that I am fine before he decides to throw a fit." Elwin rolled his eyes as his arm was being examined by the physician.

Merlin chuckled along with Arthur, who had come in to hear Gaius' final verdict on Elwin's injury, while Gaius simply sighed and told the wriggling boy to sit still.

Gwen had come too, and she was attempting to converse with Everard (who was being polite and trying to answer her questions, but kept being distracted over his brother's welfare). "How do you like Camelot?"

"It's a beautiful city, my lady, and…Elwin, quit squirming, Gaius is trying to help you…sorry, Your Majesty, what was I saying?"

Gwen laughed. "You said the city was beautiful."

"What? Oh, yes, it is, and the common people seem quite happy from what I've seen and that's always a sign of…Elwin! Don't make faces at the person who's trying to help you!"

"But I want to know what's taking him so long!" Elwin whined.

Just then Gaius completed his examination. "All is well. You should spend a little more time regaining your strength, but other than that you've recovered well." Looking knowingly at Everard, Gaius added, "There is nothing to worry about."

Elwin jumped up and said cheerfully, "See, Everard? I told you so!"

The adults all exchanged amused looks as Everard glared exasperatedly at his brother. Then Arthur said, "When do you advise that we leave for Bernicia? It wouldn't do for Elwin to have a relapse on the way…"

Gaius shrugged. "A few more days, perhaps, then it matters not when they travel home."

"Do you still intend to go with them, Arthur?" Guinevere asked anxiously.

"It isn't really necessary for you to bother, Your Majesty." Everard put in hastily (Gaius and Merlin exchanged glances). "Elwin and I could probably make it on our own…"

"Speak for yourself!" yelped his twin. "I don't want to be caught by slave traders again…"

"It's not a bother; I'll rest easier knowing I did everything in my power to get you two safely back to your homeland." Arthur assured Everard.

Judging by the expression on the boy's face, he was about to protest again. But just then the door slammed open.

Percival came charging in, followed closely by Sir Leon. "Gaius!" Elyan shouted from right behind them. "We need your help!"

The knights came skidding to a halt, panting heavily. Leon spotted the king and queen and hastily inclined his head towards them. "Sire. My lady."

Percival didn't bother with pleasantries. "It's Gwaine." he said.

Elyan gasped out, "We knocked on his door, got no answer, so we went in…"

Merlin felt a sudden lurch in his stomach. Gwaine had been so odd the night before…what if he'd gone and…"What happened?" he cried.

"You'd probably better see for yourself." Leon replied.

Arthur was already halfway out the door, pursued by Gwen and Gaius. Merlin and the knights hurried after them. Merlin glanced back to see identical expressions of confusion and worry on the faces of the twins, who remained behind in the room.

* * *

Gwaine lay on his bed, deathly pale, his breathing very shallow. He was still dressed in the clothes he had been wearing the night before and apparently would not be roused.

"What's wrong with him?" Arthur worriedly asked Gaius while Merlin, Gwen, and the knights looked on agitatedly. Gaius had silently examined the unconscious knight for a few minutes and was now poking around on the floor for some reason. "Gaius?" Arthur asked more urgently.

Gaius stood up, holding a glass bottle about four inches in height. There was a small paper label attached to the neck. "I know what's wrong with him, Sire." the physician said. "Were you aware that I supplying Sir Gwaine with sleeping draughts?"

Merlin seemed to be the only one who was not surprised. "What? Why?" several people asked at once.

Gaius sighed heavily. "Nightmares. I gave this to him the day before yesterday; and judging by his condition, I think that he didn't use it that night and then drank it all last night. This preparation is not meant to be taken in such large doses. He'll be fine," there was a chorus of relieved sighs from the others, "but he'll probably have quite a hangover. I estimate that he'll waken sometime tonight. But someone should watch him at all times; just in case his body decides to reject the potion…though it's unlikely at this stage…"

Soon it was agreed that Gaius and a couple servants would take turns watching Gwaine that day. As the others left the room, Gaius signaled for Merlin to stay for a minute. When the others were out of earshot, the old physician beckoned Merlin over to him. "I found these on the floor too." He held out a hand.

In his palm were two silver dragon scale pendants. Merlin stared at them, then his gaze flickered over to where Gwaine lay; his pendant was visible on the knight's chest. "They're the same as his." he whispered. "There's two of them. Do you think that they belong to the twins?"

"Look at the back." Gaius turned the pendants over. On each was etched a seven-pointed star. Merlin stared, uncomprehending. "Gaius, what…"

"Merlin, this is the same seven-pointed star that is part of the crest of the royal family of Bernicia." Gaius replied quietly. "If these belong to the twins, I think that we may have a pair of princes in our midst. At the very least lords. And I already checked Gwaine's; the star is on his too. Merlin, Gwaine must know the boys. That's why he's been acting so strange. They're his family."

"But that…" Merlin couldn't finish his sentence. That would almost certainly mean that Gwaine was from Bernicia. Which meant...

 _That means he lied to me._

* * *

 **Bear in mind I know next to nothing about medicine (though I do know that there are a lot of drugs that can harm just as easily as heal...I guess this is the herbal version).**

 **Bernicia in this story is in a slightly different place than it was historically. I'm using a fan-made map by versaphile for reference (look up Map: The Kingdoms of Albion at Archive of Our Own if you want to see which map I'm talking about...)**

 **Reviews? They make my day!**


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

* * *

 **Hello!**

 **Earlier update than usual...maybe I'll actually get some sleep tonight. :)**

 **This story is going off in a completely different direction than I expected, so any somewhat wild twists and turns were probably not my original intent. But isn't that part of the fun of writing? :D**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

* * *

If someone had asked Sir Gwaine a week before if he'd trade all the ale in Camelot for a peaceful night's sleep, he would have said yes. That's why he wanted the sleeping draughts from Gaius, right?

Only, he'd wanted some dreamless sleep, not this bizarre haze he was stuck in.

To be perfectly blunt, Gwaine was bored. Not to mention unnerved.

Lovely, soft, dark unconsciousness hadn't lasted nearly long enough before he was pulled into this peculiar foggy place.

Everything around him was shrouded in gently swirling fog in various pastel shades. Above him, the fog was of a soft blue shade, below him and to either side, delicate green, pink, and brown. All were edged with white and gray.

Gwaine had been stuck there for longer than he could remember. And he was extremely bored.

Peaceful, this place was. He had liked it at first; he had enjoyed wandering around in the endless fog bank. The ground (which he couldn't see because of the said fog that came up to his ankles) was solid enough, but everything else was gently shifting. But there was only so long the restless man could watch the endlessly changing, misty formations before getting restless. Plus he was having an increasingly hard time remembering how he'd gotten there.

Eventually, weary of walking, he sat down on the ground, allowing wisps of mist to partially shroud him.

Then he nearly panicked, despite the soothing setting, when he realized that he'd briefly forgotten his own name. But a moment later, he remembered it. Thought some recent events seemed rather hazy…never mind. Relieved, he settled back on his elbows and looked up at the bluish sky (if there even was a sky here). For some reason, it started him thinking of Merlin.

Merlin. The first person in Gwaine's adult life who was a friend. Clumsy yet wise. Brave yet clever. The servant to a great prince and even greater king.

Funny, that. Gwaine had always thought it strange that Merlin, a sorcerer, would dare to be the manservant of a Pendragon.

Gwaine didn't often let himself think consciously about Merlin's magic. He was afraid of letting something slip, maybe while drunk or fighting, to someone who would wish the younger man harm. Like Leon or Arthur; those who truly hated magic. But honestly, it had been rather obvious.

Or perhaps it had only been obvious because Gwaine had grown up around magic.

Here, in this quiet, empty place that seemed to belong nowhere, Gwaine was free to contemplate that.

That first time, in the tavern a short distance from Camelot's walls, Gwaine had seen Merlin throwing plates without his hands. He hadn't realized at the time that Merlin's companion was Arthur Pendragon, but he had thought the raven-haired young man incredibly brave (as well as foolish) to use magic anywhere within Camelot's borders. So he'd introduced himself, and then managed to get himself stabbed trying to save the Arthur's life.

Gwaine had just about died of embarrassment and disgust when he realized that he'd rescued the Prince of Camelot. He'd had had to cover it up by saying he didn't like nobles (which was partially, true; he did avoid them, mainly to remain unseen by anyone who might recognize him for who he really was). It was ridiculous! He hated Pendragons just as much as the rest of his family did!

If there was one thing his family did well, it was agree on whom to hate.

It was only later, after he noticed Merlin's devotion to Arthur and the prince's own honorable traits, that Gwaine realized that perhaps his father's old maxim "nobility is defined by what you do not who you are" could apply to a member of the Pendragon family as well.

Though the irony of the entire situation hadn't been lost on Gwaine. Or when he was knighted; that had been just as ironic, if not more so.

What business did Gwaine have being a knight of Camelot? Personal flaws aside, it shouldn't have been allowed. He had grown up in Bernicia, where magic was permitted. He had seen a unicorn and spoken to more than one sorcerer over the course of his childhood. He had had a friend who tamed wyverns.

And his mother was a sorceress.

That fact was perhaps the most ironic of them all. Gwaine didn't have magic (if he had he figured that it probably would have made an appearance by now) any more than his father had. His sister, now, was a different story; she'd been breaking and moving things with magic since she was a child. But still…the son of a sorceress becoming a knight of Camelot? Paradoxical.

Gwaine had always wondered where Merlin got his magic; probably his father, judging by the way he talked about him. But he was clearly adept at using it; the multiple times he'd used it in dire situations proved that. It had not gotten past Gwaine that odd things seemed to happen around Merlin when his friends were in danger. Falling branches? Almost invincible magical creatures dying suddenly and mysteriously? Immortal armies going up in smoke? Snarling wyverns backing off suddenly and unexpectedly? That last one still confused him; he doubted even his old friend Hayden would be able to order fully-grown wild wyverns to do anything. And that bloody sword Merlin had been hauling around for a while the first time Morgana conquered Camelot; that thing positively reeked of magic. And later Arthur had apparently _pulled it out of a rock_? Seriously? Arthur might have been strong, but no man was _that_ strong. Unless magic was involved.

 _Unless Merlin was involved._

Was Merlin involved in everything? Probably. What was that dwarf bridge-keeper had said about Courage, Strength, and Magic? Gwaine had wondered if Arthur had been told the same thing, and if so, why didn't he pick up on the hint? Magic also explained why Merlin hadn't fallen under the spell of that Lamia girl…

Gwaine knew perfectly well that Merlin's life would be in danger if Arthur ever found out, so he kept his mouth shut. Merlin clearly didn't trust Gwaine enough to tell him; he would respect that. Hell, he'd take the secret to his grave if he had to.

Speaking of graves, was it possible that he dying now? He'd certainly never had a dream quite like this before.

Suddenly uncomfortable, Gwaine stood up, little eddies of fog stirring around him. He peered into the mists, wondering vaguely if he should try to get out. But there were no landmarks, no sense of direction. And if this was a dream, he didn't seem to have the ability to wake himself up.

He started off at a brisk walk, hoping to discover something that could get him out of this increasingly odd landscape.

Instead he almost collided with a young woman who appeared directly in front of him.

Skidding to a halt, Gwaine stared. Her back was turned to him; she seemed not to have heard him (that was another thing; this place was eerily silent). She wore a simple green tunic and dark brown leggings. Her golden hair was in a long, messy braid. She was muttering to herself, making the only noise in the foggy, hushed scene.

Unable to understand what she was grumbling about and wondering if she could possibly know what was going on, Gwaine cleared his throat.

The woman whipped around, her narrowed brown eyes blazing. "Who…" She froze.

She didn't need to ask who. He didn't, either.

 _When did my sister turn out so gorgeous?_

"Gwaine?"

"Elen?"

They stared at each other for a while, gaping. "What the hell…" they both started to say, then stopped. Gwaine laughed as she glared at him. _Nothing's changed there, then_ , Gwaine thought to himself. "Where are we?" he asked once he'd finished chuckling over the expression on her face.

He almost started laughing again when she rolled her eyes at him in a all-too familiar gesture. "Honestly, Gwaine, why do you always expect me to know everything?"

"Because you're older?" he offered, only half-jokingly.

She sighed. "Here we go again. Gwaine, how much older than you am I?"

Falling almost too easily back into their old routine, he replied, "Ten minutes."

She glowered at him. "Fifteen, you mean."

"Close enough." he answered with a shrug.

" _Gwaine!_ "

Gwaine had started chuckling again when a sharp pain lanced through his head. "Ow!" he yelped as his vision began to blur.

"What?" his sister demanded.

"Nothing." he replied quickly; the pain had rapidly faded and his vision was back to normal. "So…what are you up to these days, anyhow?" Abruptly, he realized that he really wanted to know; he'd missed Elen.

"You're asking _me_?" she spluttered. When he nodded sheepishly, she grumbled, "Typical male...But if you must know, I'm supposed to be looking for the twins, but I was getting some rest…What am I thinking? _Where on earth have you been?_ " she yelled.

Gwaine's vision was going blurry again. Shaking himself, he struggled to hold on to a thought that was just out of his reach; something about the twins…"They're in Camelot!" he yelped suddenly.

Elen stopped yelling continuous questions at him and stared. "What?"

"Everard and Elwin, they're in Camelot!" Gwaine proclaimed triumphantly just as the world fell out of focus.

"What in the name of magic are they doing…" Elen's voice and face faded rapidly into darkness as Gwaine felt the sensation of rising slowly upwards.

The next thing he saw as he opened his eyes was Gaius' concerned face hovering above him as his head began to throb again.

* * *

Merlin had been in a preoccupied state all day, causing Arthur to yell at him more usual. In fact, nobody was in a particularly good mood that day. Leon had taken to shouting at recruits, Elyan had begged off training duty to go work at a blacksmith's forge (something he did occasionally when he was upset), and Percival was speaking less than usual, and then mostly in grunts. The queen was rather distracted throughout a long council meeting and Arthur was in a distinctly foul mood. Everard and Elwin had gone to the Lower Town and had not returned until late.

While Merlin knew that everyone, himself included, was worried about Gwaine, he had the added burden of Gwaine's recently discovered lies.

 _Why would Gwaine lie to me?_

It was clear that Gwaine must have taken the pendants from one of the slave traders after the twins were rescued. Anyone who knew him would link them to him, and he must not have wanted that.

 _But if the twins are related to him, why is he trying to deny it? Or whatever it is he's trying to do by behaving like this…_

So Merlin had been going between concern for his friend's condition to anger for his deceitful behavior all day. And so he kept popping in to check on the still-unconscious knight. Each time, there was no change, and Merlin went away feeling worried and disgusted at the same time.

 _How could he not trust me?_

Finally, just as evening had fallen on Camelot, Merlin entered Gwaine's chambers to find Gaius bending over the feebly stirring knight. "Gwaine, can you hear me?" the physician was asking.

"Whaaa.." Gwaine croaked his eyes fluttering open.

Gaius stood up, frowning disapprovingly. "You overindulged in sleeping potion, Gwaine. Why on earth didn't you read the label I provided?"

The dark-haired knight groaned. "Don't know…not so loud…"

"Well, I hardly believe that this is the first time you've ever suffered a hangover, Gwaine. If you wanted one, you should have gone to the tavern."

"Go away…" moaned Gwaine.

"No, I'm not going anywhere. When you're awake enough to sit up, you will drink this preparation I made for you that should help with some of the aftereffects, but I swear if you abuse any of my medicines again…"

"How long…" Gwaine seemed determined to finish this sentence. "…how long have I been…"

"Asleep? All of last night and most of today." Gaius interrupted. "Ah, Merlin, there you are; you can help me get this idiot upright…"

Gwaine protested halfheartedly as they propped him upright on his pillows and forced him to drink some evil-looking yellowish potion. He choked and coughed, but a few minutes later he was able to speak with some coherency. "Truly, Gaius, I didn't realize…I forgot to check the label…it won't happen again…"

Gaius looked like he wanted to slap the knight, but refrained from doing so in respect for his condition. "It had better be the last time; next time you'll probably kill yourself."

This got a more violent reaction than either Gaius or Merlin had expected. "I wasn't trying to!" Gwaine cried out, only to start coughing again.

"Of course not." Gaius hastily amended, exchanging a glance with Merlin. "Well, you'll survive, anyhow."

Suddenly feeling very impatient, Merlin opened his mouth to blurt out the first question that popped into his head (something along the lines with "How exactly are you related to the twins?") but a sharp glare from Gaius stopped him. "Merlin, why don't you go see if the king needs you?"

Gwaine glanced at Merlin, his gaze worried. Merlin ignored him and stalked out of the room. Now that Gwaine was awake and apparently recovering, Merlin had more room for anger and betrayal.

 _That blithering drunk and whatever secrets that he won't spill…_

Then Merlin got an idea. Gaius probably wouldn't approve (he had been taking Gwaine's side most of the time in this whole affair), but it might be a way to figure it all out…

A few minutes later, Merlin walked up to the doors of the chambers shared by Everard and Elwin and knocked firmly, noting the sound of giggles within. Elwin, he supposed. A quick "Come in!" answered his knock; that sounded like Everard..

Merlin opened the door and strode in to find Elwin laughing hanging upside-down off the edge of his bed while his brother tossed grapes into his mouth. Everard stopped throwing the fruit when Merlin entered. "Hello! Elwin, sit up and chew those grapes properly before you choke. How can I help you, Merlin?"

"I came to bring you these." Merlin reached into his pocket and pulled out the two silver pendants which he'd been keeping hidden since Gaius had found them in Gwaine's room. He tossed one to each boy; Everard caught his deftly, but Elwin missed and went scrambling around for his underneath the bed.

It took Everard less than a second to recognize the pendant he now held. "Where did you get this?" he demanded, his eyes blazing.

"One of the knights found them on the slave traders; he, uh, forgot to ask if they belonged to you." Merlin watched for Everard's reaction carefully.

He didn't have to, as it turned out. "Was it Sir Gwaine?"

Elwin finally got hold of his pendant and sat up looking nervous. Merlin glanced at him before asking Everard, "How did you know?"

"He has one too."

"Yes. Do you mind telling me why?"

He honestly didn't expect the answer he got. "It isn't his."

Merlin felt a surge of relief and hope; was it possible that Gwaine had simply got mixed up with the royal family of Bernicia at some point? It wouldn't really explain his nightmares, but it might mean that he wasn't a liar. But then Everard continued,

"It's Aldwyn's. Gwaine stole it off him the last time he visited. Before he ran away."

Now Merlin was confused. "Who's Aldwyn?"

"Our older brother." Elwin answered him, an uncharacteristically serious look on his face.

Everard nodded. "Gwaine is our cousin." he added casually. "Father's brother's son."

 _Cousin?_ "He ran away? From where? When? And _why?_ "

"Yes, he did. From home, of course. Ten years ago. And it's none of your business."

Merlin shook his head to clear it. "Okay," he said carefully, "So if you two are fourteen, like you told us, how did you remember him well enough to know he's your cousin?"

"The pendant, of course. And if that wasn't enough…which it might not be to most people…Gwaine's not exactly a common name, is it?"

"Plus he looks like…well, our family, right?" Elwin piped up.

Merlin looked from one boy to the other. They didn't particularly look like Gwaine…no, he took that back. Everard's eyes were the same shade of brown and Elwin's were similar to the knight's as well; except that they were gray. Probably someone else in the family looked more like Gwaine... "He just woke up, you know."

"After drinking an entire bottle of a potent sleeping potion?" Everard snorted. "Yeah, he'd do something like that."

Elwin, for once, was the one to explain. "Aldwyn talks about him a lot. They were best friends, once."

Everard looked strangely sad when Merlin looked back at him. "Aldwyn's the only one who'll talk about him anymore. With us, at least. We were only four…but I remember he used to play with us…"

"He gave us piggyback rides." Elwin said suddenly.

The brothers looked at each other, apparently lost in memories. Merlin asked finally, "Why did he run away?"

Everard met his gaze squarely, his eyes unreadable. "If you want to know, ask him. It's not our place to say."

With that, he made it quite clear that Merlin was dismissed.

* * *

It was so early in the morning that most of the songbirds had yet to awaken. Dew clung to the trees and grass. The sky above was pale blue, almost grey.

 _Almost the color of the sky in that bloody dream._

Elen urged her white mare into a trot. Last night's experience had shaken her. She had found a decent inn early on the evening before and had gone to bed early. Only to see her brother in a dream.

 _Damn, he grew up! I wonder why we saw each other last night…_

It was called dream telepathy; unusual but not unheard of. Elen and Gwaine had conversed in their dreams before, but never in that bizarre place and anyway not since they were children. As they had grown older, it had become increasingly difficult for Elen to read her brother's emotions; they might have been born together, but they had grown apart.

Then he'd run off…

 _Pull yourself together, Elen!_ Tears had been threatening to gather in her eyes.

She had more pressing matters to attend to.

Namely, what her brother had said about the twins.

 _Everard and Elwin were in Camelot._

Should she trust the words of a dream?

But it had been real, in its own way. That actually had been her brother.

And somehow he knew the twins were in Camelot.

As for how they got there…Elen had her own theory.

 _Of all the low, cowardly things a Pendragon would do…_

Elen clenched her jaw and kicked her mare into a gallop, headed southwest along the road. She had work to do.

 _Arthur Pendragon, you will pay for this._

* * *

 **So, a bit of a cliffhanger! How many of you guessed that Elen was Gwaine's sister when she made her last appearance?**

 **In one of the Season Four episodes ("Herald of A New Age", I think) Gwaine mentioned a sister and called her "an evil old toad". I'm putting my own spin on that (which you'll get more of in later chapters).**

 **Please feel free to review!**


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

* * *

 **Hello, I'm back!**

 **Sorry for the wait. Real life has been horrid the last couple of days.**

 **Special thanks to NerdGirlAlert for the reviews!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Merlin was just about to clear up the dishes from the king and queen's lunch when someone knocked at the door.

"Enter!" called Arthur, not taking his eyes off Guinevere. They were lingering at the table; Gwen was telling Arthur about something amusing that had happened that morning when she was in the Lower Town. Both of them looked up, however, when Gwaine walked in.

Merlin paused in his work, torn between rage and worry when he saw his friend. Gwaine was wearing his chain mail and red cloak, but not his sword. He also looked rather pale and shaky, possibly from his run-in with too much sleeping potion. But then, he'd been looking rather shaky for weeks now, in one way or another. "Your Highnesses." he said quietly, deferentially.

 _Not like Gwaine at all._

Arthur stood up. "Sir Gwaine! What can I do for you?"

"Are you all right?" Gwen interjected.

Gwaine wouldn't look directly at them. "I've come to apologize."

 _Okay, really not like Gwaine._ Worry finally won the battle over rage. Merlin gave up the pretense of working and watched intently.

"Apologize? What for?" Gwen demanded.

Arthur seemingly had drawn his own conclusions. "If it's about that fight we had over training, Gwaine, that was my fault as much as yours. I probably should've been a little more considerate…"

Gwaine frowned slightly. "I wasn't really thinking about that, but…I should be apologizing for that too. I had no right to challenge you over something like that. I forgot my place, and that being a Knight of Camelot has responsibilities as well as privileges."

Merlin's jaw dropped briefly before he disciplined it. Arthur and Gwen looked just as flabbergasted as he felt; the words coming from Gwaine's mouth would be expected from Leon or Elyan, but definitely not from the usually drunk rogue standing before them. And he hadn't finished yet.

"I also must apologize for my behavior the other night. I've already told Gaius that I am sorry. As a knight, I should look after my health for the good of the kingdom, not risk it by taking a medicine without knowing the possible aftereffects. As of late I have been extremely indolent and self-centered…well, more so than usual, anyway…and for that I am truly sorry."

There was a few moments of silence, during which Gwen exchanged a bewildered look with Merlin and Arthur simply gaped at his knight. Finally, the king managed to say, "Gwaine, look, no one blames you for that sleeping draught, not really, least of all me. It was an accident, that's all. It wasn't your fault."

None of them were prepared for the pain that briefly consumed Gwaine's features before a stony mask settled over his face. "Accidents seem to happen a lot around me." he said bitterly.

Merlin was suddenly reminded of a similar comment, spoken in a dark hall. _"No one should trust me. Ever."_

Arthur stepped forward and placed his hand on the knight's shoulder. "Gwaine, you are one of my most trusted knights. Yes, you drink too much and you're usually as annoying as hell, but you're a good man."

Gwaine still wouldn't look Arthur in the eye. "I have my own opinions about that." he muttered.

Unfazed, Arthur continued. "Gaius told us that you were having nightmares, and that's why you were taking sleeping potion. It seems like a perfectly reasonable reason to take such medicines, and if you acted foolishly with one bottle, it's nothing to be unduly concerned about it. Everyone does stupid things like that at some point, and it kind of makes sense in your case because of your, ah, fondness of drink, but that aside...as for forgetting your place, well, it's not as if I haven't at times. You clearly weren't feeling yourself. But there is no dishonor in saying sorry…I accept your apology."

"Thank you, Sire." murmured Gwaine, but his expression did not clear.

Arthur turned to Gwen with a beseeching look. The queen moved forward and inquired gently, "Gwaine, are you really all right? Is there anything else you wish to tell us? Any way we can help?"

Usually Gwen's kind inquiries broke down reluctance like a charm, but Gwaine simply shook his head. "No, there's nothing, my lady. If you'll excuse me."

"Of course." Arthur and Gwen replied simultaneously as the knight bowed slightly and left the room quickly.

When he was gone, Arthur whipped around to face his manservant. "Merlin, when's the last time Gwaine was at the tavern?"

Merlin sighed. "A while."

Arthur ran his hand through his hair. "And when did he start acting like a sissy?"

" _Arthur!"_ shouted Guinevere, clearly enraged about her husband's insensitivity.

"Gwen, I'm not talking about his apology; that's a noble gesture which I appreciate though it makes me worried about his sanity. It's _Gwaine_ , for crying out loud! No, what I'm really talking about is how withdrawn he's been, how he's stopped drinking, and how all around hopeless he's being…Merlin, when did he start acting like this?"

"Um…remember that patrol we did on that rainy day? When the bandits attacked?"

"Yes, but that was about a month ago! What of it?"

"That's when Gwaine started to behave differently. Elyan, Percival, and I figured it out."

Gwen looked upset. "How could we have not noticed it sooner?" she asked Arthur reproachfully. "Until the recent incident I hadn't realized how odd he's been…"

Clearly frustrated, Arthur glared in the direction that Gwaine had gone. "Before you start reprimanding me, Gwen, rest assured that I'm not angry at Gwaine in the least…okay, maybe a little annoyed with his behavior…but actually I'm worried. Merlin, he's your friend as much as he is mine, if not more. Do you have any idea why he's been so… _strange_?"

Merlin opened his mouth automatically, then shut it. _Well, Arthur, Gwaine told me once that he was a noble from Caerleon, but now I think he's related to the Bernician royalty. Oh, and Gaius and I think that the twins we rescued from slave traders are princes. And they admitted to being Gwaine's cousins. So basically Gwaine has been lying to all of us about himself because apparently he ran away from home ten years ago for reasons that I've not been informed of. Am I sure? Not at all, but Gwaine, Elwin, and Everard all have pendants with the same symbol on them...which just so happens to be on the royal crest of Bernicia. No, we're not sure because the twins are keeping their mouths shut and Gwaine hasn't told me anything personal since he started acting weird except that he used to live in an apple orchard…What? No, Arthur, I did not make this up!_

Did Merlin really want to say that to Arthur? And would Arthur believe him, especially if Gwaine decided to deny it? Not at all. "No, I'm afraid I don't, really. Except…it may have something to do with his past." _I'll get real answers from Gwaine and then I'll decide to tell Arthur or not._

Arthur groaned. "That must be the case; that, or his heart's been broken. And I'm not sure if that's possible."

"Arthur…" sighed Gwen. But she, along with Merlin, could obviously hear the king's concern.

* * *

 _There is something deeply unsettling about turning a corner to find your much-younger cousin staring at you, blocking your path,_ Gwaine reflected as he walked straight into the aforesaid situation. _Especially when he looks so furious._

"You. In there. Now." Everard pointed to an open door on his left. Gwaine glanced into the room; it looked like an empty guest chamber.

On a normal day, and with anyone else, Gwaine would have thrown a few choice comments in the teenager's direction before going on his way. But it was his cousin and he was feeling strangely helpless, so he obeyed.

Naturally, he felt some trepidation when Everard followed him and bolted the door shut, but instead of offering a challenge, the older man simply dropped into a dusty seat and waited for Everard to start talking.

He didn't have to wait long. "What the hell are you doing?" the boy snarled.

 _Wow, he could rival Aunt Gerarda with that glare._ "Whatever I'm doing, it's making you angry." he asked listlessly. After days, weeks, of avoiding his cousins, he should have felt some release at this confrontation, but instead, he just felt…nothing.

Everard snorted. "How can you serve a Pendragon?"

"Because he's a good man." Gwaine glanced around the room, realizing that something was missing. "Where's Elwin?"

"Endearing himself to the knights by showing off his knife-throwing skills." Distracted from his original line of conversation, Everard now looked downright disgusted. "He likes them. Likes listening to them, too, when he's not teasing the life out of them…"

Gwaine sighed. "Just get on with it, will you?"

"Get on with…what?" Everard's angry glower turned into a look of bemusement.

"Telling me off. Calling me a traitor. Or a…" Gwaine couldn't bring himself to say the word _murderer_ out loud _._

"An ass?" Everard suggested. "You have been treating Elwin and I rather badly, you know…"

" _Me_? Treating _you_ badly? How did you come to that conclusion?" Gwaine demanded.

"You've been avoiding us, shunning us, refusing to talk to us…Just because we haven't seen you in a decade doesn't mean we're not your family." Everard said firmly.

 _I don't deserve a family._ Gwaine had to take a couple shaky breaths before he could speak again. "It's just… you and your brother grew up and I'm not sure what to make of it…I've been gone so long…"

Everard nodded slightly, then pulled something out of his pocket. He dangled it in front of Gwaine.

 _The pendant._ Automatically, Gwaine checked his own neck; his pendant was where it belonged. Heart sinking, Gwaine realized what that meant. "Merlin?"

"Yes. Elwin and I are not wearing ours; your _other_ friends here would need to be blind to miss the implications, and you're clearly not interested in announcing your relationship to us." The last part came out like a threat.

Gwaine stood up, finally a bit of hot anger entering his present emotions. " _You_ are clearly not interested in telling Arthur of your royal blood."

Everard raised his chin defiantly. "You're right. We don't. It's too dangerous. But Merlin knows we're Bernician royalty, or at least suspects. He and that physician…But he won't talk." Everard smiled slightly, and Gwaine's stomach lurched. "I've got a secret about him…"

Before he knew what he was doing, Gwaine was on his feet and had the boy pinned against the nearest wall. "You will not," he growled, his face inches from Everard's, "under _any_ circumstances, tell Arthur about Merlin's magic. He will be killed for it and I refuse to let that happen."

For the first time since they'd found the twins in the woods, Everard looked at least partly terrified. But also speculative. "So you know." A pause. "You trust him?" the teenager whispered. "Though you lied to him; didn't you? You're certainly not from Caerleon."

Gwaine released his cousin and stepped back. "I trust Merlin with my life. And I do not believe that he will tell Arthur about who you…we really are." He took a deep breath before asking, "How much does Merlin know, exactly?"

"He knows that you're our cousin. He knows that the pendant you wear doesn't belong to you; it's Aldwyn's. He knows you ran away from home."

"Does he know why?" If Merlin actually knew the reason for his self-banishment, Gwaine didn't think he could ever face the man again.

Everard shook his head. "I said it was for you to tell, not Elwin or I."

"Thanks a lot." Gwaine muttered. Everard actually laughed before he said quietly,

"I don't want to betray Merlin's secret, not really. I would never desire to give a sorcerer that isn't evil to that Pendragon for judgment. Only as a last resort."

"To save yourself?" Gwaine asked, though he knew that wasn't the case. Not with Everard.

"No. To save my brother." Everard replied steadily.

 _Of course. He's Barclayn through and through. Rather like Uncle and Aunt…and Father…_

"Do you really think that Arthur would turn against you just because your father is the ruler of a kingdom that encourages the use of magic?" Gwaine inquired.

"You tell me. Would Arthur Pendragon turn against us for that?" Everard was glaring again.

Gwaine swallowed. "Uther would've. Arthur, no."

"Are you sure?" When Gwaine did not reply right away, Everard added, "What if he discovered that your sister is a sorceress? And your mother as well?"

"I don't know." Gwaine answered quietly, feeling more helpless than ever. "I don't know anything. I guess I never did."

Everard watched him for a moment before going to the door and unbolting it. "I'd better go check on Elwin." he said. "To make sure he's not getting into trouble."

"Okay."

Everard paused before leaving the room. "We won't say anything, Gwaine. Whether or not you tell Merlin or anyone else about…about yourself…it's your choice. And Elwin and I will support it." Their gazes met. "We _are_ family, even though you're serving a Pendragon." Everard said.

Gwaine nodded, the smallest of smiles appearing on his face. "Barclayns, right?"

Everard responded with a smile of his own before departing to find his brother.

* * *

"We're lost." Ryle stated blandly, for at least the twentieth time.

"We are not lost, just…misdirected." Aldwyn countered, patting the neck of his grey stallion with one hand.

"Admit, it, Your Impossibleness, we're lost." Ryle persisted. "We weren't lost while we were sneaking through Rheged, we weren't lost when were prancing through Deira, we weren't lost while skirting The Perilous Lands, but we must have gotten Mercia and Escetir mixed up because we are lost now!"

Aldwyn was typically rather laid back, but a couple weeks of traveling with Ryle had evidently frayed his nerves. He called the older man something unrepeatable, only to be answered with an equally vulgar comment, which soon escalated into a loud shouting match.

Lady Cleva sighed and urged her bay mare forward at a walk, putting some distance between her and the arguing men. They'd follow soon enough; this had happened a couple times already.

 _Why did I agree to this?_

She knew the reason. Actually, there were two, no, three: One, Haralda had caught a very bad cold and had had to stay behind, so she'd asked Cleva to go in her place. As a good friend, Cleva had said yes. Two, Cleva was as fond of the twins Everard and Elwin as anyone else in the court, and the thought of them enslaved made her blood boil.

 _I may have been born in Caerleon, but my loyalties most definitely lay with the Barclayns._

The third reason was one that she kept a carefully guarded secret.

No longer paying any heed to the men's bickering, she tugged on the chain around her neck, pulling it out from under her collar. Her fingers caressed the slender golden band strung on the chain.

 _"We are friends, aren't we?"_

 _"That's what the rings are for, silly. They're friendship rings, 'cause they're identical."_

 _"So we remember each other."_

 _"Yeah, so we remember…Come on, Cleva, you don't have to look so serious! If you do you'll end up looking like my Great-Aunt Gytha…" He grinned as she began giggling at the thought. "There, that's better. I don't like to see you frown."_

 _Pretending to be offended, she asked, "Aw, does it bother you that much when I'm sad?" She made an over-exaggerated morose face._

 _"If I had my way you'd never be sad." His voice was suddenly low and unusually tense. She stared at him in confusion, but suddenly his trademark grin returned. "I expect to see a smile when I get back!"_

 _"I'll always have a smile for you."_

She still did.

She just wished that he had come back to collect.

* * *

Elen was not stupid. She knew better than to go bursting into Camelot with a bang; that never seemed to work out for anybody, as far as she knew. And a well-dressed woman with a fine steed might go without much question while just passing through a small town, but lurking around in a large city? That would be the height of stupidity.

So Elen had turned herself into a peasant.

Her fine, comfortable traveling trousers and tunic discarded and safely hidden, she now wore a light blue dress made of a rather coarse material. Her cloak was of thick brown cloth, and her golden hair was mostly hidden beneath a grey headscarf. Now she was just a commoner, beneath notice. All right, maybe a rather pretty commoner, but still…

She really didn't like having to leave her horse boarded at a small inn, but she had given the innkeeper quite a nice payoff. She would walk into Camelot.

 _No one takes particular note of a young woman looking for a maid's job in the castle. Arthur Pendragon won't know what hit him._

She'd get her cousins back without having to enlist Aldwyn and whoever else he'd brought along with him and kill that filthy Pendragon at the same time.

 _What can possibly go wrong?_

* * *

 **The next update should be sooner! (I hope)**

 **Okay, another thing. I absolutely adore all the favorites and follows (sometimes I can't believe that people actually want to read this!), but seriously, I've had only nine reviews so far on this story. Reviews actually do inspire me to write more. So if you like this story, just leave a few words to tell me so. :) That kind of thing really brightens my day!**

 **Until next time!**


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

* * *

 **Hello!**

 **Thanks for all the lovely reviews! They made my otherwise terrible day a lot better!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

* * *

"How's Gwaine? I haven't seen him recently." Gaius said to Merlin over breakfast.

Merlin considered that question. Four days after Gwaine's apology to Arthur, the knight's mood had…shifted. Somewhat. In some ways. Merlin didn't know quite what to make of it. "Well, he's…better. Sort of. He's going to training and performing his duties admirably…and if you haven't seen him I assume that he's stopped getting sleeping draughts. But he's definitely avoiding me. And he still isn't laughing as much." Merlin swallowed another spoonful of porridge. "Oh, and he's still not going to the tavern."

Gaius frowned. "You're going to have to talk to him sometime, Merlin. I would very much like to know exactly how Gwaine and the twins fit into the royal family tree of Bernicia."

Merlin sighed. "Gaius, we're not even sure if they are royalty…Even if they are, it's not like they're going to admit it…Everard has been deliberately avoiding questions about his family while Gwaine's been lying about it for years…And every time someone gets close to the subject with Elwin his brother materializes and all but clamps his mouth shut…honestly, even Arthur's beginning to wonder, for all he's such a clotpole…"

" _Merlin_." Gaius shook his head slightly. "Perhaps you should try questioning the boys first. Maybe you'll have more luck."

"With Elwin, maybe. If I can just get rid of his brother for a few hours…" Merlin grumbled.

"Well, if you do decide to ask any of them, you'd better do it soon. Everard and Elwin won't be staying here forever and if Gwaine is truly related to them, who knows what he'll do if he helps escort them home."

As a matter of fact, the issue of when Everard and Elwin were going home came up that very afternoon. Whilst most of the knights and Elwin were down at the training field, Everard asked for a audience with the king and queen, which was granted. The first thing he said after formally greeting their majesties was, "My brother and I want to go home."

This was rather abrupt, but not altogether unexpected. The twins had been in Camelot for a few weeks now; naturally they wanted to go home. Arthur looked startled, but replied calmly, "Of course. I'll organize an escort and we'll be off within the next couple of days, if you'd like. The good weather should hold and I'm not expecting any important court matters to come up."

By the exasperated look on Everard's face, Merlin recognized that he had given up telling the king that his royal presence in the escort wasn't needed. Instead, Everard said, "It shouldn't be a large group by any means. Bernicia isn't…is not on very good terms with Rheged lately and from what I've heard, the ruler of Northumbria isn't very keen on having knights from Camelot riding through his lands, either." This was completely true; the new Lord of Northumbria didn't like Arthur very well.

"Certainly. I'll bring only a few trusted knights." Arthur looked around at the few council members that still remained in the council chamber. "If there's no more urgent business to attend to today, gentlemen, I will go and join my knights in training. Everard, would you care to accompany me?"

* * *

Even Arthur looked impressed and applauded when Elwin threw six knives, one after the other, into the bull's-eye of the target. The knights cheered as well, even though they'd apparently seen this display before. Merlin watched in amusement as Percival clapped Elwin on the shoulder so hard that the unsuspecting boy tripped and nearly fell into a knife rack. In the laughter that followed, however, Merlin realized that someone was absent. "Where did Everard go?"

The knights immediately looked around, and Leon said a moment later, "Gwaine was here a bit ago; where'd he slip off to?"

A couple minutes later, they found the two missing persons.

They were locked in fierce combat in the middle of the sword-fighting area.

Merlin and his friends joined the circle of junior knights and squires who were already watching the fight. It was certainly something to see.

Merlin had always taken note of Gwaine's unique fighting style. Many of the moves he regularly used had been unfamiliar to the knights of Camelot before he had joined their ranks.

But from what Merlin could tell, Everard fought rather like Gwaine did. Merlin hadn't really noticed it when he's seen Everard spar with the other knights, but it clearly showed when the boy battled Gwaine.

The others looked on as the two jabbed and parried and sidestepped without a pause. Neither showed any sign of flagging for quite some time. Finally, Gwaine stepped back for a moment, only to lunge forward an instant later and perform his typical disarming maneuver.

Everard blocked it.

Merlin had never actually seen someone successfully block that maneuver. He didn't think any of the knights had, either. And Everard did it like it was nothing.

Like he practiced it.

More than that, he took advantage of Gwaine's obvious surprise. With a few swift slashes, Everard knocked the blade out of the knight's hands and sent the older man tripping backwards to land on his back. Everard followed up by stepping over Gwaine and pointing the blade at his chest.

The knights began to clap and cheer, but Merlin was to preoccupied watching Gwaine and Everard remain in their current positions as they exchanged a few words, their expressions serious. Then Everard tossed his weapon aside and held out a hand to help Gwaine to his feet. Both of them grinned fleetingly as they walked over to accept the attention from their audience.

"Well done, Everard!" Leon said, clapping the boy on the shoulder. "Not used to being beaten, are you, Gwaine?"

Gwaine grinned a little sheepishly and said, "He tricked me."

"By basically beating you with your own move?" Elyan chuckled. "Quite a stroke of luck, blocking it…but very good follow-up, Everard! I've certainly never managed to defeat Gwaine, except maybe when he's drunk!"

"I think they're both very good swordfighters." Elwin broke in cheerfully, draping and arm around his brother's shoulders. "I do keep asking Everard to teach me…"

"And I've been trying, but you prefer knives anyway!" Everard laughed.

Merlin grinned to himself; he had to admit, it was nice seeing the usually uptight Everard relax a bit more than usual. But then, didn't Elwin have that effect on almost everyone?

"That was incredible, Everard!" Arthur said "Keep this up and I'll have to make you a knight!"

While the knights of Camelot all chucked appreciatively, Merlin saw Everard tense and his eyes flash in anger. Elwin eyed him nervously, and Gwaine stopped freeing clumps of grass from his sword to sent a worried glance Everard's way.

A few minutes later, in the armory, Elyan brought up the subject of Everard and Elwin's journey home, which had been mention by Arthur earlier. "Sire, which of us are going along with you when you take the twins home?"

Merlin, who was helping Arthur remove his armor, paused momentarily as Arthur said, "Only a few; which of you would like to come?" _He hardly needs to ask,_ Merlin thought with a grin as he resumed his work.

"I'm coming!" Elyan said immediately.

"I will gladly join the escort." Leon offered.

Percival murmured his assent.

Then Elwin piped up, "Gwaine? Are you coming, too?"

To most of the men in the room, it was a harmless query. To Merlin, it was a loaded question. He, like both of the twins already were, watched Gwaine's face for his reaction.

Unfortunately, the dark-haired knight was undoing his armor in a shadowed corner of the room. But his voice was calm when he replied, "If you'd like me to come, I will."

From across the armory, Merlin saw Everard smile.

* * *

Gwaine brushed his horse rather violently, working off his excess emotions. He couldn't think straight. His mind kept replaying the conversation earlier, on the training field when Everard had beaten him.

 _"The Pendragon is planning to take me and Elwin home."_

 _"So I heard."_

 _"Are you coming?"_

 _"Possibly."_

 _"What will you do if that happens?"_

 _"I'll figure it out."_

And know he definitely was going.

 _What am I going to do if…when I get home?_

He didn't have the faintest idea.

* * *

Arthur was in the mood to have a romantic dinner with Guinevere that night, so after he'd finished setting out the food for their majesties, Merlin wandered down into the Lower Town. Evening was falling, and the first stars were coming out. Merlin smiled slightly to himself, humming an almost inaudible tune as he wandered down the mostly silent streets.

Then he felt it. The presence of magic.

Looking around, Merlin saw a deserted warehouse nearby. _The magic is emanating from there._ As quietly as he could, he sneaked toward the building.

A few minutes later, he managed to slip inside a door that had been left ajar. Creeping through aisles of broken, dusty furniture and battered armor. Now he could just make out murmured words, just ahead.

Moving forward and peering out from behind a stack of crumbling crates, Merlin saw a circular area that had been cleared of dust and objects. In the center knelt a young woman, holding a long dagger upright in her hands.

She was speaking so quietly that Merlin couldn't understand most of the words, but he recognized enough to realize that it was a powerful enchantment. Not a good one.

And he heard the words _Arthur Pendragon_ several times.

Merlin suddenly felt furious. This sorceress was enchanting the blade _to_ _kill Arthur_. He was certain of it.

Just then, the woman's eyes flashed gold and she stood up. _Then_ Merlin recognized her.

 _The new kitchen maid. Helen, right? Or something like that. Wasn't she hired a couple days ago?_

At the moment, it didn't really matter.

Merlin lunged out from behind the crates and yelled, " _What do you think you're doing?_ "

She promptly dropped the dagger and shouted, " ** _Ástríce!_** "

" ** _Scildan!_** " Merlin bellowed, raising a shield to block her spell.

Then they just stared at each other for a full five seconds.

" _You have magic!_ " they both yelled at the same time.

As the woman (Elen, _that_ was her name!) prepared to cast another enchantment, Merlin moved to counter it; whilst thinking rather wryly to himself, _Well, this should get interesting._

* * *

 **I'm too tired to say anymore. The next chapter ought to be more interesting.**


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

* * *

 **Hello!**

 **I am so sorry for the late update! I had friends over and then I was in town super late and didn't have time to write...but never mind, I'm back now!**

 **I'm not entirely happy with this chapter...I can't quite put my finger on why...But I hope you enjoy it anyway!**

 **There's some blood in this; nothing graphic.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

* * *

It was more than interesting.

It was downright terrifying.

And maybe just a little bit of fun.

For Merlin, at least. It had been a long time since he'd been able to use his magic for much else besides speeding up his chores and felling the occasional branch onto a bandit. But that didn't mean that he had forgotten anything; on the contrary, he'd been studying every so often, just in case Morgana came back with another immortal army or some warlord attacked by summoning a horde of restless spirits or another goblin got loose in the castle.

Merlin hadn't expected to be using combative spells against one of the kitchen maids.

" ** _Binne tófléon!_** " A stack of old tables crashed down to the floor, just missing Elen.

" ** _W_** ** _áce_** ** _ierlic!_** " The spell missed Merlin as he dodged it, hitting and knocking over an ancient suit of armor instead.

They were actually nearly evenly matched. Unable to make use of his full elemental powers in the confined space of the warehouse (and not daring to do so anyway), Merlin found Elen to be a formidable opponent. She clearly knew exactly what she was doing; and almost ten minutes into the fight, neither of them were gaining any ground.

" ** _Ic te withdraf!_** "

" ** _Swilte!_** "

That's when it stopped being fun. Merlin flung up another shield, only just in time to block the killing spell. For him, the goal so far had been to subdue the sorceress and question her about her alleged plans to kill Arthur. But it was clear that she had other plans.

 _She means to kill me…if she can._

" ** _Forbearnan!_** " Merlin shouted, summoning a blaze intended to surround Elen.

She managed to elude it, but her headscarf caught on fire. She ripped it off with a yell, her golden hair tumbling loose over her shoulders. " ** _Onbaerne!_** " she shrieked, turning the flames back at Merlin.

Merlin managed to avoid the flames, ducking behind a stack of old saddles and harnesses as his ears picked up the sound of the town's warning bell. The noise of the duel hadn't gone unnoticed.

 _I've got to end this before we're both caught._

Leaping out from behind the saddles, Merlin caught sight of the dagger, forgotten on the floor. " ** _Folge min bebeod!_** " he shouted with a sweeping hand gesture.

The dagger flew up and hurtled through the air, straight into Elen's left side.

Her scream tore to shreds everything that wasn't metal in a twenty foot radius and sent Merlin flying backwards into the nearest wall.

By the time Merlin managed to struggle out of the pile of wreckage he'd been thrown into, Elen was nowhere in sight. But blood dotted the floor in an unmistakable trail.

Merlin followed the splatters out into the streets, where he promptly ran into a group of guards. Arthur was with them.

"Merlin! Where have you been? You're a mess!"

The truth wouldn't do at all, of course, so Merlin said the first thing that came into his head, which unfortunately was, "The tavern."

Instantly he started kicking himself. Arthur rolled his eyes and said resignedly, "The tavern. I should've known." Turning to the silent guards, he commanded, "Check all the streets. Alert me if you find anything." As they marched off, the king turned back to Merlin. "Really, _Mer_ lin, I give you a couple hours off and what do you do? You go to the tavern…and get in a fight, by the looks of you. Did someone throw you into a pigsty?"

Merlin shrugged. "What's going on? Why is the warning bell ringing?" As usual, he was being forced to play stupid.

Arthur sighed. "Someone heard what sounded like magical spells being shouted in this neighborhood. Did you see anything suspicious?" When Merlin shook his head, the king continued, "Go back up to the castle and tidy my chambers, idiot."

"Sure thing, prat." What Merlin really wanted to do was find Elen, but he decided that he'd have to pursue that later. If Arthur caught him lurking around, he'd get suspicious, clueless royal or not. So Merlin headed back up to the citadel, thinking furiously, his emotions conflicted.

He wanted to catch Elen and confront her for her nefarious plans.

But he didn't want Arthur to catch her.

 _He'll execute her, no questions asked._

Somehow Merlin didn't want that to happen.

* * *

Gwaine hurried along yet another dark street. _Will someone stop that bloody chiming?_ he wondered disgustedly. The warning bell was still ringing annoyingly. It made his ever-present headache worse.

Plus he was exhausted. He'd stopped taking sleeping draughts, but the nightmares had not relented much. The result was a bad nights sleep, every night.

Also, he'd been dragged from his dinner, which didn't improve his mood any more than his constant anxiety did.

And Gwaine was really not in the mood to hunt down a magic-user.

Grumbling to himself under his breath, Gwaine stopped at a shadowy corner near the front gates of the city. Maybe he'd start heading back to the castle; no one but guards were out here now. Even if there _had_ been a sorcerer making a ruckus in the Lower Town earlier…

Then he heard a sharp, pained gasp from the alley across from him.

Sword out, keeping to the shadows, Gwaine cautiously approached the source of the sound.

A metal blade clattered against the cobblestones, the sound muffled by a agonized curse. In the light of the newly risen moon, Gwaine could see the dagger, a couple yards ahead of him. It was covered in blood.

Gwaine paused, considering whether or not to call for help. If this was a sorcerer, he might need assistance in subduing him. Or her.

Then the injured person came out into the light, bent over slightly, hand clamped over a spot on the left side of her abdomen. She cried out in fear when she saw Gwaine.

And every thought Gwaine had of calling for help fled his mind in an instant.

"Elen." he whispered.

"Brother." Her voice shook.

Their eyes met in recognition just as the sound of deep voices drifted from the end of the dark alley. _"Look, blood; wherever the sorcerer is, he's injured. Check down here!"_

Gwaine saw Elen straighten, her eyes hardening, but quickly he lunged forward and grabbed her arm, hauling her out of the alley and down another, away from the guards.

The next few minutes were a blur of twisted, dark streets, pounding hearts, and approaching footsteps. Gwaine didn't dare stop, even when he heard his sister gasp in pain every few feet; guards and knights were still searching.

 _I can't let them catch my sister._

She resisted, pulling to a halt behind a tool shed and hissing angrily when she realized that he was taking her in the direction of the castle. He halted long enough to explain, "There's a tunnel that leads under the town to outside the walls. It can be only accessed through the citadel." When Elen still refused to move, Gwaine growled, "Elen, trust me."

 _Trust me? How can I tell her that after the things I've done?_

Elen remained still, her eyes examining Gwaine. Too late he realized what he was wearing; his chain mail and red cloak with the Pendragon crest on it. "You're a knight of Camelot, aren't you?"

Gwaine wasn't certain which part hurt more; the tone of anger in Elen's voice or flicker of hope in her eyes; the hope that this was a mistake, that he wasn't serving a Pendragon.

His silence was his answer. Her jaw hardened and she pulled from his grip. Heart aching, Gwaine said quietly, "You're bleeding."

Elen glanced down at the wound. It wasn't very big nor did it seem terribly deep, but it was bleeding. Wincing, she put her hand over it and muttered, " ** _Thrhhaele dolgbenn._** " Her eyes flashed temporarily gold. The blood stopped oozing out of the cut, but Gwaine could tell that it didn't heal all the way; mainly by the pain still evident on her face. "Well?" Elen snapped after they'd been standing still a minute longer. "'Aren't we being pursued?" Gwaine shrugged and gestured for his sister to follow him.

"Why didn't the spell work?" he asked a few minutes later, after they'd successfully slipped into the castle and began to sneak along the lower hallways.

Her breath was labored as she answered, "Dagger…was cursed. My…my doing. Not meant for me…the curse, I mean. Stupid serving boy used a telekinetic spell on it…stabbed me."

Gwaine stopped, ducking behind an old statue and pulling Elen after him. Forcing her to face him, he demanded, "What serving boy? And who was the blade enchanted to kill?"

Elen made a face. "It was meant to kill Arthur. His manservant has magic…he found me and attacked. Scrawny bastard."

Gwaine's annoyance at his sister's slurring Merlin was overcome by the fact that she'd enchanted a knife specifically to kill Arthur. "You were planning to kill the king? _Why?_ "

 _Do I really need to ask that?_ There was a long list of reasons Elen would have to kill Arthur. But before he could refute his question, she said coldly, "Oh, sorry, I didn't realize that you'd swore fealty to him. That you'd become _loyal_ to him." Her voice was bitter, full of resentment and hate.

 _Some of it is probably for me._ He deserved it. But he asked again, urgently, "Why, Elen?"

"He kidnapped our cousins. Or ordered someone to do so."

"He _rescued_ Everard and Elwin. He is planning to take them home!"

"Do you really believe that?" Elen snarled.

The warning bell had ceased its clanging, but the distant clamor of guards' voices reminded Gwaine of their predicament. "Come on." he snapped, leading Elen out from behind the statue and down the torch lit corridors.

The next part of the journey seemed to last for hours. But it couldn't have been longer than a half hour before they had found the tunnel that led from the burial vaults and left the city behind them.

The grate at the end of the tunnel had worried Gwaine at first, but Elen simply muttered a couple words and it was blasted off its mountings. Then she turned to face him. "Now what?"

He knew what had to happen now, but it didn't mean he liked it. _She's injured. But she can take care of herself. I think. I hope._

"You go. Get out of here. Somebody will have noticed that you are missing by now and they'll put two and two together." When Elen didn't move, her face blank and unreadable, Gwaine nearly shouted in frustration, "Elen, listen, we don't have time for you to be stubborn. Get yourself back to Bernicia as quickly as you can, do you understand me?"

Worry took over her features. "The twins…"

"I'll get them home. I promise. Now go."

She stared at him, but finally began to back away, slowly, before turning and running into the woods.

Gwaine forced himself to hurry back toward the castle, to report his findings to Arthur.

Which was to say, he was going to have to concoct a lie as an explanation of his brief disappearance. But to be honest, Arthur was hardly his biggest concern right now.

 _Elen, what on earth did you think you were doing?_

* * *

 _Gwaine, what have you done?_

Elen didn't make it far into the woods before she collapsed. However, her injury, though still painful, was not the cause.

Her tears were.

Elen did not like to cry. She usually refused to do so; it showed weakness. She had learned, over the years, to turn all her sadness and fear into anger. Anger kept her safe, far safer than the vulnerability of tears. She preferred to break and burn things over crying. Yes, anger was better. She could always retreat into it.

As a matter of fact, Elen could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times she'd cried since she was a very young child. The last time, it had been from sheer terror.

This time? She wasn't sure. Anger, betrayal? Probably. Regret?

 _Don't even go there._

She was not safe this close to Camelot. She had to keep going.

 _Damn my brother. The traitor._

Who had just saved her life.

 _I can't believe I've missed him so much._

And now that she'd seen him now, so changed, so…so _unlike_ her lost brother…the pain was only going to get worse.

* * *

It had been a rough night so far. The search for the sorcerer had finally ended when a couple guards had found the grate on the tunnel from the burial vaults torn off. And the newest castle kitchen maid had gone missing; it was suspected that she was the sorceress who had disturbed the peace of Camelot that evening.

Merlin stifled a yawn as he listened to the king and the knights converse over what to do.

"Whoever she was and whatever her plans are, she's gone now, sire." Leon said. "But she _was_ injured, seemingly in whatever fight occurred in that warehouse, which means…"

"She had a fight with someone else; we already discussed that. There's just no way to be sure..." Arthur ran his hand through his hair. "We've been talking about this for too long. It's late. We'll look around some more in the morning. Goodnight, everyone."

The knights dispersed, some silently brooding, others muttering to their friends. Merlin watched Gwaine leave; he'd been completely silent throughout the whole meeting. Far too silent, even for his present mood…

Merlin's half-closed eyes flew open. _He knows something._ He wasn't sure where the conviction came from, but if Merlin had learned one thing over the years, it was that his instincts were usually right.

Now wide awake, Merlin followed the dark haired knight as he strode, not to his rooms, but to the parapet that overlooked the castle gates. No one else was around.

Gwaine sauntered forward and leaned on the balustrade. Merlin watched him for a few minutes before going over to join him.

Gwaine glanced at him. "Hey, mate."

"Gwaine." They remained in silence for a few moments before Gwaine spoke.

"You can ask me, you know."

"Ask you what?"

"Whatever it is you're just dying to ask me right now." Gwaine chuckled dryly. "I don't know if I can lie properly to you right now, Merlin. You've come close just enough times. Besides, I'm tired. Nearly out of my senses."

Merlin almost laughed at that, but the questions burning in his mind stopped him. Taking a deep breath, he prepared to speak.

What he meant to ask was _What do you know about the sorceress?_ , but what came out was, "Why did you lie about your past?" It was the question he'd been asking in his head for weeks; the one that bothered him above all the rest.

Because he'd thought that Gwaine was his friend. That he trusted him.

Merlin didn't know what reply his question would receive. He expected anger, or laughter, or maybe no answer at all.

He didn't expect Gwaine to turn, look him in the eye, and ask calmly, "Why do you lie about your magic?"

* * *

 **So, a sort of cliffhanger. I'm a bit evil :D**

 **Please Review!**


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

* * *

 **Hello! Another chapter!**

 **If this long-awaited conversation between between Gwaine and Merlin seems erratic, it's because in my experience, conversations between friends, even 'deep' ones, tend to be a bit...well, erratic.**

 **I hope you enjoy this! It took me hours to get it right!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

* * *

It took several moments for Merlin to fully comprehend exactly what Gwaine had said. His automatic protest came tumbling from his lips before he could stop it. "I…I don't…I don't know what you're talking about…" he stammered.

Gwaine interrupted him. "Merlin, calm down. I'm not going to tell anyone." He smiled crookedly. "If I wanted to turn you in, I would've done so years ago."

That brought Merlin's stuttered ramblings to a halt. "How…how long have you known?" he whispered.

"Since the first time I met you. Unlike the Princess, I know magic when I see it. Flying plates and benches aren't exactly hard to miss…if you're looking." Gwaine eyed Merlin. "Don't worry about the twins." he added abruptly. "Everard won't say anything unless it comes to a toss up between your life and his brother's and Elwin won't mention it unless his brother or I tell him to."

Merlin swallowed, wondering how, as usual, Gwaine had managed to turn the tables. "You knew and never told Arthur."

Gwaine snorted. "You were my friend before Arthur was. Besides," he shifted uncomfortably, "I don't believe that magic is evil. Never have, never will. But I think I know why you lied about your magic; self-preservation makes the most sense. Am I right?"

Merlin nodded slightly, then said, "That leads me back to my question: Why did you lie about your past?"

His cobalt blue eyes bored into Gwaine's brown ones. It took a long time for the latter to answer. "I told you before, Merlin. I can't trust myself. So I can't trust anyone."

"Yet you kept my secret."

"That's different."

"Gwaine!" Merlin glared at the knight, frustrated. "You know my secret and you kept it. Can't you trust me enough to tell me yours?"

Gwaine clenched his jaw, shutting his eyes briefly as if to brace himself. Finally, his voice low, he began to speak.

"My name is Gwaine Barclayn, son of Prince Goddard, the younger brother of King Harlan of Bernicia. Everard and Elwin are the king's younger sons; Aldwyn's the oldest and he has a sister a couple years younger named Haralda."

 _So Gaius and I were right. Everard and Elwin are princes. And Gwaine did lie to me about his past._ But Merlin felt more curiosity than anger at the moment.

"Remember when I told you that I disliked nobles? Well, really it was Pendragons that I didn't like. My mother was a young sorceress who had fled the Great Purge; I bet you can imagine some of the stories I grew up with."

Merlin broke the short silence that followed. "The sorceress, Elen. The one I fought earlier. You helped her escape, didn't you? And who is she?"

"So you did fight her. She mentioned you." Gwaine sighed. "Elen's my sister. She was here for the twins; of course I helped her escape. She thought Arthur had abducted them."

"What! Why?" Merlin demanded.

"Search me. She's more prejudiced against magic-haters than I am; and she's always been a rather…volatile person. It wouldn't take much to set her off…a rumor or a suspicion…oh, _damn_! _I_ told her they were in Camelot!"

Merlin blinked. "What?"

Gwaine let out a growl of frustration. "Have you ever heard of dream telepathy?"

"Not much, but yeah."

"Well, when I was under the influence of that sleeping potion, I saw Elen in a dream. It had happened before…when we were children, Elen was always getting into my dreams. We kind of grew out of it, but that one night…I wasn't thinking straight in that dream, but I still managed to tell her that the twins were in Camelot. She must've taken it the wrong way. So she came marching in here, managing to get herself nearly killed…" He trailed off muttering to himself.

Merlin felt embarrassed. "Um…sorry about that…"

Gwaine waved his hand dismissively. "She was asking for it. She should have found me. Let me guess; she tried to kill you first? Before you stabbed her?"

"Yeah." Merlin frowned. "So she's gone?"

"I told her to go home. Back to Bernicia. I said I'd get the twins home myself."

"Aren't you worried about her?"

Gwaine suddenly glanced away, his eyes suddenly suspiciously bright. "Hell, of course I'm worried about her, Merlin. Wouldn't you be, if it was your sister?"

"Yeah, I would. Gwaine," Merlin asked hesitantly, wondering if this was the right time to ask this question, "Gwaine, when was the last time you saw her? Before tonight?"

"Ten years ago."

"When you ran away from home."

"Ah, so the twins did tell you that much."

"Why'd you do it? Were you unhappy?"

"No. Not…not exactly." Gwaine began shaking all over, almost unnoticeably at first. "I…I loved my family. My life back home. Still do. I had everything I wanted. Being related to the royal family was never entirely safe, of course, but I…I was never afraid. Not really. I was happy. But then I did something…something unforgivable…" His trembling grew worse, his breaths grew shorter. His eyes stared beyond Merlin, at something only he could see. "I was with my father." he whispered. "We'd gone with a patrol to a village on the border of Strathclyde. There'd been some rumors of wolf attacks…Most of the patrol went back to the city, but my father and I went home to our castle farther south…we didn't think we needed guards…but we were attacked…"

Merlin felt his throat constrict slightly with apprehension.

"Bandits. There weren't that many…we were fighting them, I led a couple off, killed them, then I was hiding…I heard a branch break, I panicked…"

By now he was gasping for breath, clearly holding back tears. And suddenly, Merlin didn't want to know what had happened…

"I still don't know why I didn't check…" Gwaine clutched the stone balustrade of the parapet, his knuckles white. "I went lunging around that tree like a fool…and the next thing I knew my sword had gone straight through Father. I killed him."

Gwaine started crying then, almost hysterically, his entire body shaking with sobs. Slumping down against the balustrade, he bent double. Merlin impulsively knelt beside him, uncertain of what to do.

"I'm a murderer, Merlin. And everyone back home knows it. And I know it…it'll never change…that's why I ran, that same day, that same moment, I never went back and I never can…I'm a murderer…"

Merlin waited until Gwaine's anguished sobs subsided somewhat before speaking, choosing his words carefully. "You ran away immediately?"

"Yes, I couldn't bear to face anyone after what I'd done…I just left him lying there…"

"But it was an accident, wasn't it? You didn't mean to kill him." Merlin tried to comfort his friend.

"Yeah, but no one knows that. Running away was a mistake. I made myself look guilty…and anyway the fact that it was an accident doesn't change a thing. I still did it."

Merlin waited, but Gwaine didn't seem inclined to speak anymore. So he murmured, "My father died in my arms. After he sacrificed himself for me. I'd only spent a couple days with him, but it hurt so badly…For a while, I blamed myself." He paused. "How old were you…when it happened? Ten years ago, your cousins said, so you'd be…"

"I'd just turned sixteen." Gwaine drew a shaky breath. "I asked to go on that patrol with Father. It would've been better if I hadn't. Then it wouldn't have happened. He wouldn't be dead. And I wouldn't have run."

Merlin wondered if Gwaine had ever said these things out loud to anyone. Probably not.

"I didn't care where I was going, just that I was gone from Bernicia, far away where I couldn't hurt anyone else I loved. I earned a living, if you can call it that, by using a sword and gambling. I spent some time with bandits…picked up some tips on a lot of things…but then I'd kill them all in their sleep once I'd gained their trust. It happened a few times, I don't really remember…I think I went a bit crazy for a while…A few years back, I stopped being so violent. It was starting to scare me; I didn't want to be a monster anymore. So I started behaving a little less…lethal."

"You started acting like the Gwaine I met." Merlin said quietly.

Gwaine laughed bitterly. "Yeah. Hiding behind gallows humor; I'm great at it. People got tired of me quickly…I told you that once. Kept me from staying in one place too long. But I guess it helped me keep my sanity." Gwaine shuddered. "Some of the things I've seen, Merlin…Compared to some of the places I've been, Camelot's paradise. Even with all the executions, all the fear of something the king doesn't understand…But I've a place here…There's been a few times I've considered leaving, though, if only to keep myself from spitting in Arthur's face when he says something about how evil magic is...Sometimes when he executes a magic user, even though it's not often, I can only see my mother's siblings…the uncles and aunt I never knew because Uther killed them for the magic they were born with…I can hide a surprising amount of fury behind my laugh, Merlin."

Merlin could barely process what Gwaine was telling him. Uther had killed some of the knight's family? Suddenly the hatred on Gwaine's face the time he'd faced Uther made a lot more sense.

Gwaine kept speaking, "Arthur's different, even though he's often so insufferable. And I've seen how devoted you are to him…That's what caught my interest from the start. A sorcerer, choosing to serve a master who would have him killed if the truth were known? You're a far braver man than I, Merlin. But I don't know how you can do it. How can you serve him? I can because despite the fact that I'm related to at least two sorceresses, I don't have magic. And I'm an exile. Camelot's as safe as anywhere. Also, I trust your judgment. But why, Merlin?"

Merlin didn't even think of lying. "Because it's my destiny."

Gwaine smiled a little. "Your destiny is to serve and protect Arthur Pendragon?" When Merlin nodded in confirmation, Gwaine said, "I wish I knew mine."

"Trust me, it's a pain at times."

Gwaine chuckled, but quickly grew quiet. "Your father…who was he?"

Merlin swallowed. "His name was Balinor." Gwaine's eyes flashed in recognition of the name. Forestalling the question, Merlin explained, "He was a Dragonlord."

Gwaine grinned. "Aha. That explains the wyverns." Serious again, he asked, "What was he like?"

"Strange. Lonely. Wary. But…He knew who I was. For a day." It still hurt to speak of it. "He was my father. As I said before, he could have taught me so much. But he never had the chance."

"I guess that dragon's not dead then?"

"No." Merlin inquired softly, "What was your father like? Since it turned out that you actually did know him?"

Gwaine winced. "Merlin, I lied to you because…I couldn't face it myself. It had nothing to do with you personally…It was easier to pretend that I never knew my father than to admit that I ended his life."

Merlin nodded to show that he understood. Because he did.

Apparently relieved, Gwaine leaned back against the balustrade. "He was kind. Understanding. Protective. He loved horses. And he was a brilliant swordsman."

"He taught you?"

"Yes. He was Uncle Harlan's favorite advisor; unusual, actually, most kings hate their brothers like poison. Afraid of insubordination, I suppose. But Father and Harlan trusted each other. That's just it…Father was trustworthy. He was honest. He believed that nobility is defined by what you do, not who you are."

Merlin started at the familiar phrase. "So he taught you that, too."

"Yes. He did have his own prejudices, of course. For instance, he hated Pendragons with a passion, if only because Mother did. But as much as possible, he judged people by their actions, not their blood. He never put on airs about being noble. As a result, I didn't either. Not often, anyways. Sometimes it was fun; using my rank as cousin to the Crown Prince in order to get what I wanted; but for the most part, I tried to follow Father's example. Many of my friends were commoners, actually. Like Hayden…You'd like him, I think."

"Really? Why do you say that?"

"Well, he tames wyverns, for starters."

Merlin laughed incredulously. "That's impossible!"

"No, it's not!" Gwaine grinned slyly. "Why do you think I know so much about them, Merlin?"

"Well…" Merlin frowned slightly, considering. "You do seem to be able to recognize them from a distance…and you knew what they were before I did…"

"Trust me, if you've ever had to feed a wyvern by hand, you'd be able to recognize one anywhere." Gwaine smiled reminiscently. "They make a particular screechy, hissing noise when they're hungry."

Merlin raised his eyebrows. "You fed a wyvern? Wouldn't that have been your friend's job?"

"Oh, Hayden was devoted to his scaly fiends. But he dared me to feed one once, and after that I just kind of got into the habit of helping…when I had the time to visit. He and his father lived a few miles outside of the city. Their family had been involved in taming wyverns for a few generations…they never had a whole lot of them at one time, though. To much to handle." Then he looked back at Merlin, the mischievous look in his eyes almost blotting out the sadness. "Right then; I've just spilled my guts, now you tell me when you first realized that you had magic."

* * *

Dawn was but a couple hours away when the two friends parted ways and headed for their living quarters. Their conversation had been for the most part rambling; each taking turns to share parts of their pasts.

Merlin told Gwaine about his secret involvement in many of the momentous events in Camelot. The dark-haired knight looked pained when he heard the stories of horrible treatment and revenge of magic users in Camelot, but roared with laughter when he heard the slightly more humorous accounts such as the tale of Arthur's troll stepmother and Gaius' goblin-induced hunger for gold.

In return, Gwaine told Merlin about his childhood in Bernicia (steering clear of any mention of his father's death or the aftermath). Merlin was fascinated; Gwaine had grown up around magic in a way that even Merlin had never experienced. Apparently, in Bernicia, wyvern-tamers were hardly the strangest thing around. Sorcerers practiced their magic openly; healers in particular were revered. Magical creatures were allowed to roam about, unless of course they started killing people or livestock. "The number of hunts Uncle Harlan went on after magical creatures…He could almost beat Arthur on that score!" When Merlin mentioned the adventure he'd had with Arthur and the unicorn, Gwaine revealed that he'd also seen a unicorn before. "Aldwyn, Haralda, and I were on a ride when it just appeared out of the trees…It was the most beautiful creature we'd ever seen. We just sat there and watched it for at least an hour before it finished grazing and moved on."

Mostly, Gwaine talked about his family. Merlin's head was practically spinning with the tales of Gwaine's great-aunt Gytha, who knew ancient stories from almost every known kingdom, handsome Aldwyn, the Crown Prince who even as a teenager could best any man with a crossbow, Aunt Gerarda who had apparently ridden to war with her brothers before she had got married to the ruler of Strathclyde, and a few others whom Merlin had trouble keeping straight. Gwaine had also had many friends; mainly cordial acquaintances, with a small group of close companions including his cousin Aldwyn. _Rather like his relationship now with the other knights…_

That was about when Merlin asked about the pendant.

The mention of the small trinket made Gwaine wince, but he answered easily enough, "Uncle Harlan had four of these made." He rubbed the silver object between his thumb and forefinger. "One for each of his children. Something about some anniversary or other, I think…Anyway, I nicked Aldwyn's before I went on that…that last patrol. It was a joke, nothing more. We would have laughed over it later. But then, after what happened…" Gwaine trailed off unhappily, staring into the distance.

Not wanting to force Gwaine into reliving his father's death again that night, Merlin asked as lightly as he could, "What about girls, Gwaine? You've always bragged about your flirting talent being practiced early, and you've barely mentioned any so far!"

It worked, at least, Gwaine cheered up a bit momentarily. "Oh, girls barely noticed me around Aldwyn. He had half of the young female population swooning over him before he turned fifteen! But I did get plenty of leftovers, so to speak…and lots of pointers on how to win a woman's favor." He laughed softly. "Oh, and there was Cleva, of course."

"Who?"

"Lady Cleva, rather. She had a hard early life; her father died when she was very young, her brother not long after…She and her mother arrived in Bernicia sometime around her ninth birthday. Cleva had an obvious stutter when she was younger…result of some bad experiences…" Gwaine's expression darkened slightly as he continued, "Lots of other kids teased her for it…I was almost twelve, I think, when we first met…Anyway, I ended up beating on the bullies who messed with her. Helped me perfect my fist fighting techniques, let me tell you. At first I was just her protector; she was rather in awe of me, I'm afraid. But later we became friends. I think I was her best friend, actually." Gwaine hooked his fingers on the slender golden ring on the chain around his neck. "That's what this is from. Friendship rings, see. She has…had, at least…an identical one." Gwaine had then changed the subject.

For some reason, when Merlin had finally reached his room and was stretched out on his bed, it was Gwaine's mention of Cleva that occupied him the most. That, and the wyvern tamer Hayden. Imagine, taming a dragon-like creature _without_ being a Dragonlord…probably couldn't manage an actuall dragon, though…

 _I'm going to have to meet some of these people one day…Hopefully I'll be able to keep all Gwaine's family members' names straight…_

And with that thought, the exhausted warlock drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Gwaine was paying dearly, by way of a headache and constant drowsiness, for his late night spent talking to Merlin. But he didn't regret it; emotionally, he felt better than he had in weeks.

But he was still worried. He had plenty to worry about.

First off, he was still concerned for his sister. Tough as he knew she was, he worried for her safety. Wasn't that natural? Even if she'd been trying to murder the king of Camelot…well, he'd been tempted a few times…

Also, Arthur had decided not to delay the task of escorting the twins home much longer, since there'd been no sign of further suspicious activity. Gwaine was now faced with the problem of what to do when he brought them home as he had promised.

And speaking of the twins, how was it going to be, escorting them home? Gwaine and Everard might have come to an understanding days ago, but the usually gregarious Elwin was keeping his distance, whether of his own volition or under his protective brother's orders Gwaine couldn't tell.

But he did have to talk to them. As soon as possible.

'As soon as possible' resulted in Gwaine dragging a reluctant Elwin into a broom closet, while Everard followed, demanding that the older man release his brother or else. But fairly soon, Gwaine had both of them locked in the closet with him, though now they both were protesting in very loud whispers.

"Elen was here last night." he finally snapped, mostly to shut them up.

It worked long enough for him to explain. "She came to Camelot under the guise of a kitchen maid. For some reason, she got it into her head that Arthur had kidnapped you, and she planned to get you out and kill Arthur at the same time. Merlin stopped her, and I got her out of Camelot. Merlin and I had a long chat; he knows all about us now, and he won't tell, I can assure you of that." He paused to take a breath.

Everard instantly spoke up. " _Merlin_ stopped Elen? What happened?"

"He stabbed her. I think." Gwaine still wasn't clear on the details; he'd known better that to ask. He really didn't want to know.

Of course, that revelation that Merlin stabbed Elen didn't go over well. "He _what?_ " both twins shrieked simultaneously, then promptly began to talk at the same time, mostly threatening Merlin with all sorts of violent revenge.

Gwaine smacked them both on the back of the head to get them to shut up. "Listen, she was _trying to kill the king_. Now I know that you two don't approve of him because he's a Pendragon…" this earned a snort from Everard and a sheepish look from Elwin, "…but he did save your lives. He's intending to take you home, which is more than most kings would do. He's a good man, as hard as that may be for you to believe; it took me a long time too. Elen will be fine, she used magic to heal herself." _No need to worry them unduly._ "She'll meet us at home. I'm telling you this because you have the right to know. And you'd better not try to punish Merlin or Arthur for what happened to Elen; if anyone should be angry, it's me. She's _my_ sister, not yours. Now go do whatever it is you were doing when I dragged you in here." Gwaine unlocked the door and shooed the boys out. They meandered off, glaring over their shoulders and muttering mutinously.

Gwaine sighed and rubbed his temples as they disappeared around a corner. _I might be untrustworthy around ale and sleeping draughts, but I don't care; I'm going to get a headache cure from Gaius._

* * *

"You rat-brained useless lump! This is your fault!"

"It's no more my fault than yours, you pompous, fancy, royal _troll!_ "

Cleva was very, very close to grabbing the nearest cooking pot from her saddlebag and throwing it at Ryle or Aldwyn. Preferably it would hit both of them.

 _Honestly, why can't they read a map…_

Perhaps it was outdated. Always a possibility. But Aldwyn had the map right now so she couldn't check.

Not for the first time and probably not for the last, Cleva urged her horse forward away from the arguing men. Scanning the trees ahead of her, she glimpsed something; something that made her pull up quickly. "Oi!" she bellowed, reveling in the fact that she could shout without stammering anymore. "You idiots!" she turned to look at the confused faces of Ryle and Aldwyn. "Isn't that a road?" She waved her hand at the nearby wheel tracks, clearly visible through the trees.

* * *

 _Tired. I'm tired._

Elen slumped over the neck of her white mare. She'd tried to use her magic to heal herself more than once, but it wasn't working properly.

 _I'm a warrior, an enchantress, not a healer. And that curse may not have been meant for me, but it isn't helping me any._

The curse would not kill her. That was not the way it worked; it was meant to kill Arthur and Arthur alone. But it had weakened her.

 _I want to rest. But I can't; I have to get home…_

Mother. Her mother would be able to help.

 _But I'm so tired…_

When the men attacked her, she didn't even manage to put up a fight.

* * *

 **There you are! I hope that it was worth the wait!**

 **Just in case you were wondering, I actually took some particular care in choosing most of my OCs' names.**

 **For instance: Everard means "brave as a boar", Elwin means "friend of the elves" (in my mind, the mischievous type), Aldwyn means "an old or wise friend", and Gerarda (the warlike aunt) means "brave spear woman".**

 **As for Hayden and Ryle: Hayden has several meanings, one of which is "hay hill", while Ryle is similar as it can mean "rye hill". Plus, it rhymes with "rile", which is what he does to everyone around him... :D**

 **I'll try to update soon!**


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

* * *

 **Hi, everyone!**

 **Sorry I'm later than usual. Rel life hasn't been great lately.**

 **I made a mistake with a line break in the last chapter...I think I've fixed it now, though.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

* * *

The sky was clear blue, the early-morning sun warm, but a brisk breeze was blowing. As Merlin fastened another bag of supplies to a horse's saddle, he noted that Everard, who was holding said horse's reins, was eyeing the proudly waving, red Camelot flags on the castle with an expression of mild distaste. Leon, walking up leading his own mount, noticed as well.

"Something wrong, Everard?" the blond knight asked.

The boy shook himself and answered quickly, "Not at all. I was just thinking of how impractical the color red is. Not on flags, of course; but for instance, your cloak. How do you stay hidden in that?"

From the other side of Leon, Elyan replied, "We usually don't. If we have to sneak around we just wear our chain mail."

"But still," Everard said, "red is very unreasonable for an article of clothing. Unless it's a dress."

Merlin and Elyan exchanged amused glances as Leon, as usual slightly flustered at the mention of the word 'dress', responded rather heatedly, "It's traditional for knights of Camelot to wear these cloaks. We consider it a badge of honor to wear the Pendragon crest!"

Everard shrugged. "Suit yourself. Red makes a nice parade color, I admit. But Bernician knights wear green."

"How sensible of them." Elyan grinned.

"What's sensible of who?" Elwin jogged down the castle's front steps to join his brother. Everard whispered something to his twin, who grinned and murmured something back which started them both laughing.

A few minutes later the two knights, the twins, and Merlin were joined by Arthur, Percival, Gwaine, and Guinevere. The queen was in the middle of a warning to her husband.

"…and try not to be eaten by a giant rat, Arthur. And if you get captured by yet another group of bandits…"

"Gwen…"

"…you're always reckless, though you'll never admit it…"

"Guine _vere_." Arthur interrupted her again. "I'm not riding into battle! And I don't plan to go through the Perilous Lands this time, either."

"Whole lot of fun _that_ was." Gwaine muttered to Merlin as he cinched up his horse's saddle.

Merlin burst out laughing. Most of the knights exchanged amused glances while Arthur looked over from where he was still trying to reassure Gwen and gave Merlin an exasperated look. Elwin demanded, "What's so funny?"

Gwaine and Merlin just grinned at each other.

Gaius appeared just then, handing Merlin a small bag of medicinal supplies. "Keep yourself out of trouble." He gave Merlin a quick hug and glanced around at the others. "I'm saying that to all of you."

"Don't we always stay out of trouble, Gaius?" Gwaine joked.

He got quite a few laughs in response to that. Even Gaius and Gwen smiled slightly.

Privately, Merlin felt pleased that Gwaine was at least recovering some of his good humor. It didn't seem to be an act this morning.

 _But would you recognize the act if you saw it?_

Merlin pushed that thought away.

A few minutes later, they were ready to depart. With Arthur in the lead, they had begun to ride out of the castle courtyard when Gwen called after them, "Merlin! Elyan! Keep an eye on my husband, will you?" Craning his head around, Merlin could see that she was smiling. He grinned back.

"Don't worry, we will!" Elyan answered cheerfully for both of them.

Arthur sighed comically. "My own _wife_ doesn't trust me to stay out of trouble!"

"No offense, Sire, but she does have a point." Leon said with usual candor, prompting another laugh from the others as they rode through the town and out of Camelot.

* * *

The weather remained clear throughout the day, and the mood of the travelers remained optimistic. It was easy to be so while riding through the late spring woods in the bright sunshine, with the prospect of a journey ahead that didn't necessarily have to end in a confrontation with a rival army or some dangerous magical creature.

 _Well, hopefully not._ Merlin couldn't help but think about Hayden's wyverns. And wonder if Gwaine's Uncle Harlan would take offense at the fact that a Pendragon had rescued his sons.

 _If the King of Bernicia is half as bigoted against Arthur as his niece is…_

Merlin truly hoped that that was not the case.

That night and the next day passed uneventfully. The weather remained fair, the company pleasant.

As they traveled, Merlin noted with some amusement the knights' acceptance of the twins. Even before they'd left Camelot, the knights had all clearly grown attached to the boys. Elwin, who could make anyone laugh, had already become something of a impish, yet fondly regarded "little brother" to Percival and Elyan, while Sir Leon and Everard got along oddly well despite their varying opinions. Those two spent quite a lot of time riding next to each other, immersed in cordial yet fervent discussions. They typically kept their voices rather low (unlike Elwin and the other knights, who seemed to delight in guffawing loudly every other sentence). But a couple times, Merlin deliberately steered his mount close enough so he could hear their conversation.

"So you don't have a Knights' Code in Bernicia?" Leon asked at one point on the second day of travel.

"Not like you do. Nobles are the ones who become knights, but it's not quite such a…a high position in Bernicia as it is in Camelot. Knights are considered elite soldiers, but not much else."

"That view doesn't seem to lend itself to morality and honor." Leon commented mildly. "The Knights of Camelot are considered the foundation of a most loyal and honorable army."

"Of that I have no doubt. I'm just afraid that we're rather short of…well, _collective_ honor in Bernicia."

Merlin then dropped back to join Gwaine at the rear of the party. "Gwaine, were you considered a knight in Bernicia? Because of your status?"

Gwaine looked vaguely startled at this. "Oh, I see. Been listening to my young cousin argue with Leon about etiquette, have you?" He grinned and continued in a casual tone, "Not really. There isn't really a strict way to becoming a knight in Bernicia, but I would've probably ended up one when I got to the age of twenty or so. The twins probably will, too. If you're a noble, it just means that you can go to war if it is necessary. Foot soldiers are recruited differently…My father," Gwaine paused for a moment, "My father was a knight. I didn't lie about that bit."

Merlin shrugged. _You just lied about where he was from and which king he served…_

"He said that he saw becoming a knight as a sort of sign that he was considered an adult." Gwaine smiled ruefully at Merlin. "But being knighted isn't in itself a major turning point or anything. It's not really like Camelot's grand traditions."

Merlin nodded to show that he understood, then inquired casually, "So Bernician knights wear green? Everard mentioned it; after calling red cloaks impractical."

Gwaine, unexpectedly, burst out laughing. The others turned around to stare at him. But he focused on Everard. "Impractical, are they?" Gwaine guffawed. "You know, Everard, I've been thinking the same thing since I became a knight!"

"Sir Gwaine, this isn't about the cloaks, is it?" Arthur demanded from the front of the group. "I really wish you'd stop complaining about them all the time. It's not like I make you wear one every day!"

This time, to Merlin's surprise, it was Everard who started to laugh first.

* * *

The wavering column of smoke from the campfire drifted up into the star-strewn sky. Gwaine found that his gaze was held by the ever-shifting flames and glowing, fluttering cinders. But he listened to the chatter and laughter of the others. The knights, who were taking turns telling tales of their exploits, all appeared rather excited at the prospect of a little adventure. _We do enjoy getting out of Camelot every once in awhile, don't we? Especially the king._ And Everard and Elwin seemed happy to be going home finally. _Poor kids; they're probably homesick…_

Which he understood only too well.

 _Damn it, Gwaine, don't go there…_

But he couldn't help it.

He was homesick, too.

It seemed like every time he closed his eyes lately, all he could see was images of home. A windswept moor. The royal castle of Bernicia on a lofty mount above the town. A blossoming apple orchard. A valley full of clouds, while the heights surrounding it gleamed in the sunlight. Hayden petting his wyverns and insisting that they were just as agreeable as any cuddly pet. Aldwyn practicing with a crossbow and laughing at Gwaine's ineptitude with the weapon. Uncle Harlan pounding his fist on a banquet table, roaring with laughter. Great-Aunt Gytha telling a story. Cleva urging her horse to leap across the stream. Elen, carefree, young, and laughing, the northern breeze blowing her wild golden hair about. His mother's brilliant sky blue eyes, changeful as the weather. His father's smiling and shaking his head in amusement…

Gwaine stood abruptly, prompting an outburst of questions from the others. Waving them off, he muttered the hasty excuse, "Call of nature," before hurrying off into the woods.

He stopped a short distance from the camp, hidden in the dark trees. Leaning against the rough bark of one trunk, he looked up at the gently waving tree branches, black against the starry sky above. He remained for a few long minutes while he struggled to get his breathing under control.

When he returned to the others, Elyan was telling some story about Guinevere chasing him around the Lower Town when they were children. "She claimed that I stole her shawl. Why would I ever do that?"

"Well, did you?" asked Percival with a grin.

"Um, no…but I did know who did." Elyan admitted sheepishly. "Anyway, Gwen eventually chased me straight into a fence, which I climbed over…It was a pigsty. You can imagine the result."

"Our little sister threw an entire meat pie at Everard once. It hit him on the head." Elwin grinned and elbowed his brother, who turned slightly pink. "Remember that, Ev?"

"She was _four_!" Everard protested. "She didn't know any better!"

"So you have a younger sister?" Merlin asked, putting a slight emphasis on the word "younger". His gaze met Gwaine's. Gwaine realized, with a jolt, that Merlin had picked up on the significance of this information before he had. _They_ don't _have a little sister; I told Merlin that Haralda is only a year younger than me…_

"Yeah, Hertha. She's nine years old at the moment." Now Gwaine found himself staring into Elwin's faintly concerned eyes.

 _Shit, I've got another cousin that I didn't know about._ As if the twins' age shift wasn't enough to remind him that he had been gone from home far too long.

For the next few minutes, all Gwaine could think about was what he would give to be at a tavern. Ale or mead, in large enough doses, was always enough to dull the gut-twisting guilt and shame. For a short time, at least.

In his present mood, Gwaine felt that he would take what he could get.

Which, in the present situation, was nothing.

Arthur spoke then. "How many siblings do you have? You haven't exactly been open about your family so far."

Everard immediately sat up stiffly, clearly suspicious. But Elwin had relaxed again and replied easily, "Three. Aldwyn's the oldest, then there's Haralda, then Hertha. Aldwyn and Haralda are really much older than us; Aldwyn's married …"

 _Dear God!_ Aldwyn had actually gotten married? Gwaine would've expected him to wait at least another five years at least.

"…to Braeden; she's nice. They don't have any children yet though Father keeps telling them that they ought to…"

 _Oh, damn._ Gwaine was pretty sure he knew who this "Braeden" was. If he was right, it was going to be pretty hard to explain if Elwin let slip her title.

"…Haralda claims that she doesn't want to get married, but Aldwyn says…"

Suddenly, Everard stretched (rather too quickly to be natural) and somehow managed to clout his brother on the side of the head with one arm. "Hey!" yelped Elwin, more from indignation than anything else, and moments later the twins were engaged in an impromptu wrestling match.

The knights cheered them on, but it was tired applause. After a couple more minutes of halfhearted jokes, the weary travelers prepared for bed.

Gwaine volunteered for first watch. Before long, the grunted goodnights and grumbled arguments over bedroll space died away, leaving Gwaine alone with the dying campfire and his own thoughts.

 _Aldwyn's married…_

 _If I'm right, he's married to that princess from Deira…_

 _Uncle Harlan and Aunt Aldora had another child…wasn't four enough? Maybe they were counting the twins as one…Ha, that's a thought..._

Why on earth hadn't the twins talked to him more about home before now? Of course, he'd made himself scarce around them at first, but for the last few days he hadn't been unfriendly. He'd wondered if they'd speak to him more on the journey. But they were still keeping their distance.

 _Well, if they know the truth about what you did, which they almost certainly do, why should they trust you?_

They shouldn't.

 _No one should trust me…_

The next couple hours passed with no disturbance save the occasional hoot of an owl. Gwaine's tumultuous thoughts were slowly dissipating as he grew increasingly sleepy. Staring into the glowing coals of the fire, he felt his eyelids slowly drooping…

 _"No! Stop! It hurts!"_

A sharp yell came from his lips before he had even fully awoken. He doubled over on the log he sat on, breathing heavily. It took him a few seconds to realize that he hadn't been the one who had screamed those words. He'd merely responded to them.

Thankfully, most of the others were still asleep; except for Percival, who sat up, looking around. "Gwaine?" he asked in his low, rumbling voice. "Are you okay?"

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Gwaine replied as steadily as he could, "Yeah, Percy, I'm fine. Just heard a bird or something."

Percival stood up and stretched. "I'll take this watch, if you'd like."

"Yeah, thanks." Gwaine stood quickly and settled down on his bedroll a short distance from the fire.

He was still shifting around, trying to get comfortable, when a voice hissed from behind him. " _Gwaine._ "

Rolling over, Gwaine came face-to-face with Merlin. His blue eyes were wide with concern. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Gwaine frowned, considering. His stomach felt like it was tied in a couple dozen knots, his head hurt with a sort of dull pounding sensation, and he had a horrible sinking feeling. Like something was very wrong.

And suddenly he knew.

"Elen." he whispered. "Something's happened to Elen."

* * *

"Of course, when we actually find a road we end up going the wrong way along it!"

"We _are_ going the right way! We were just on the wrong road before!"

 _This is getting ridiculous,_ Cleva thought disgustedly. _It's not halfway into the morning and already they're arguing._

"Why don't you just go back to Bernicia, Ryle? Or wherever it is that you slink off to when you're not imposing your company on other people?"

" _Imposing,_ Your Flirtiness? I came along to _help_ you!"

"And a fine lot of help you are!"

Cleva contemplated hazily whether or not she would be in a vast lot of trouble if she murdered the Crown Prince of Bernicia because he was being annoying. But mostly she was occupied with directions. Or lack of them.

Elen had sent word that they should meet her where the borders of Camelot, Escetir, and Mercia met. All right, so they had to go to the town nearest that location. Fine. Simple, if Aldwyn and Ryle would just agree on how to read a map. What wasn't so simple was that Elen had not contacted them since, though she'd promised to. It wasn't like her at all.

Which gave Cleva a reason to worry.

Since moving to Bernicia, Cleva had become a trusted member of the court, and quite close to the royal family. But over the last few years, she'd kept particular watch on Elen. She found the haughty sorceress and her powers intriguing.

But mostly she tried to stay close to Elen because she was Gwaine's sister. A last link, so to speak.

Cleva glanced over her shoulder, realizing that Ryle and Aldwyn had fallen behind due to their bickering; _yet again._

"Idiots." Cleva muttered, spurring her mount forward. So what if they fell behind. They'd catch up.

But she hurriedly pulled her horse to a halt a few minutes later. Smoke was rising through the trees directly ahead; just the right amount of smoke for a campfire.

Whirling around, Cleva galloped her mount back along the road a short distance to where Ryle and Aldwyn were still arguing. They looked up, concerned, as she came hurrying up. "Campfire. Just ahead." she hissed.

Instantly, both men were on the defensive. They dismounted immediately, followed by Cleva. Aldwyn checked the sword hanging at his side, but grabbed his crossbow and a bag of bolts. Ryle wore a sword, too, but he didn't bother to draw it out. Typical.

Cleva drew her long dagger, wishing that she had a sword. But it would be to heavy for her to use effectively.

A few minutes later, they were creeping through the trees, approaching the campsite. Peering through the foliage, Cleva could make out the figures of horses and men clad in chain mail. _There are more of them than there are of us._ Cleva tightened her grip on her dagger.

"Knights of Camelot." Ryle whispered suddenly, gesturing toward the nearest figure; a dark-skinned man in a long red cloak.

It took Cleva a second to put it together. Camelot.

Pendragons.

 _Barclayns don't like Pendragons. Or their subjects._

 _Especially not their knights._

Growling, Aldwyn suddenly leapt toward the camp. Cleva and Ryle followed him. While still hidden behind some trees, Aldwyn yelled, "All of you drop your weapons! I've got a loaded crossbow and I'm not afraid to put it to use!"

From her hiding spot behind a bush, Cleva glimpsed a dark-haired man shoving someone behind a fallen log as the rest grabbed their weapons and looked around wildly for the person who had shouted. "Who's there?" demanded a man with short blond hair.

"That is none of your concern at the moment! Drop your weapons!" Intimidation. That was the only advantage Aldwyn and his companions had right now. Well, not the only advantage. But personally, Cleva didn't trust Ryle to take a real stand unless the circumstances were unimaginably dire.

"I will do no such thing!" bellowed the blond man. But he clearly didn't want to take any chances in case Aldwyn actually did have a crossbow trained on him…which was, of course, the case.

"Who is saying so?" Aldwyn roared back. "Now you listen here, you rotten…"

He might have started a swearing match right then and there, but suddenly the person who'd been thrown down behind the log popped up into view.

Cleva gasped in recognition and Aldwyn nearly dropped his crossbow; just as a disordered, leaf-covered Elwin shouted, " _Aldwyn?_ "

* * *

 **Not quite as long as the last one, I'm afraid. But I hope you enjoyed it!**

 **So, Braeden (meaning "broad hill") is widely considered a boy name. But it can be a girl name, too, as it is here. But Princess Braeden isn't really a major character or anything and you probably don't really care anyway, so I'll stop talking now.**

 **I'll try to update soon.**


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

* * *

 **Hello, everyone!**

 **I'm so sorry about the late update! I've had a rough couple weeks, and I kind of needed a break. But I should be mostly back on schedule now!**

 **This chapter isn't the most exciting. But it's kind of necessary.**

 **Thank you so much for all your support; whether it be reviews or follows for favorites or just reading!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

The morning hadn't been going great to begin with.

To start with, Merlin hadn't gotten much sleep because Gwaine had been turning and tossing nearby all night, making a lot of noise. Far to weary to get up and move away from the restless knight, Merlin had stayed put. He knew why Gwaine couldn't settle down and he understood. But later he wished that he had moved. (Though to be fair, Gwaine hadn't gotten any sleep either.)

At first light that morning, Elyan, who had been on the last watch, discovered that one of the horses had managed to slip its tether and wander off in the dark. By the time the animal was found (it hadn't gotten very far, thankfully), it was going on midmorning.

Then an insane somebody had come crashing through the trees (very unhelpfully keeping just out of sight) and shouting at the top of his lungs that he had a loaded crossbow ready to fire.

Naturally, none of the knights (being Knights of Camelot, after all) dropped their weapons. Rather, they all pulled them out and looked around wildly for whoever was yelling at them. And, of course, Arthur started yelling back.

Then, just as the man with the crossbow started swearing at the king of Camelot, Elwin jumped up, from behind the log Gwaine had thrown him next to, and yelled incredulously, " _Aldwyn?_ "

 _Wait, his brother's here?_

There was the sound of something being dropped, as well as branches and bushes being hastily shoved aside, and a tall, dark-haired man clad in nondescript brown and green leapt into the camp. "Elwin!" he shouted.

Stunned, the knights, Arthur, and Merlin stood still and gaped as Elwin ran forward and threw his arms around Aldwyn, who returned the embrace readily. But his eyes were scanning the camp. "Where's Everard?" he demanded. "Where is your brother?"

"I'm here." The other twin emerged from behind the horses. Stepping forward, he quickly accepted a brief hug from his older brother as well. "Yes, Aldwyn, I'm haven't died...What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, of course! Where on earth were you? Are you all right?" Without waiting for an answer, Aldwyn glared around fiercely at the others. "If you hurt one hair on their heads…" Although by this point, the knights had already lowered their weapons and looked a little less threatening.

"They rescued us." Elwin said quickly, grasping his older brother's shoulder. "They're our friends."

Merlin saw that Aldwyn relaxed only slightly after this assurance, plus Everard went stiff and looked more worried than ever.

Then two other people chose to enter the camp at that moment; an older man in a long brown cloak with scruffy dark hair, and a young woman with her jet black locks braided and wound around her head. She carried the apparently abandoned crossbow gingerly. "Aldwyn, would you please unload this before it shoots someone?" Her light grey eyes were clearly relieved when Aldwyn took it from her. But she kept the long dagger she held in her other hand out and ready.

While he removed the bolt with practiced ease, Aldwyn continued to look around at the party from Camelot. "Introductions, anyone?" he said in a cheerful tone, though clearly unnerved by the stares.

After a moment of exchanging apprehensive glances with the assembled knights, Arthur stepped forward and held out his hand. "I'm Arthur Pendragon."

Aldwyn's jaw dropped, but he quickly collected himself and shook Arthur's hand. "Nice to meet you, Your Majesty." His voice had that cautious yet haughty tone that Everard so often adopted. "As you may have gathered, I'm Aldwyn."

"Everard and Elwin's older brother." Arthur nodded. "They mentioned you."

"How nice of them." Aldwyn grinned and tried to ruffle Elwin's hair; the boy ducked and snorted in amusement while Everard rolled his eyes. Aldwyn returned his attention to Arthur. "This is Cleva and that's Ryle." he said, gesturing to his companions. He also shot a glare at Ryle, who merely raised his eyebrows.

Merlin, however, was occupied with looking at Cleva. _Is she the same Cleva Gwaine mentioned?_ From what he could see of the expression on Gwaine's face, Merlin would say yes. _I wonder when they'll recognize him?_

Arthur continued the introductions, pointing out each person in turn. "This is Sir Leon," the blond knight nodded, "and Sir Elyan, and Sir Percival…and that's my manservant Merlin over there, looking scared and pathetic…and Sir Gwaine."

The effect on the newcomers at that name was instantaneous. Before, they'd barely spared a glance anyone in the clearing save for Arthur and, of course, the twins. Now Aldwyn's eyes widened as they flew to the dark-haired knight, Cleva let out a startled gasp, and Ryle started (there was no other word for it) _smirking_. Somehow the expression worried Merlin. _Is it possible that he knew about Gwaine already? And who is he, anyway?_ Gwaine had never mentioned anyone named Ryle. At least, not that Merlin could remember.

 _Gwaine looks like he's about to pass out,_ Merlin noted with concern.

He had a feeling that this situation would not turn out entirely well.

* * *

 _Of all mornings, they just had to pick this one to show up._

Gwaine was seriously considering running away again. It was a very appealing idea at the moment. Not only was he being faced by his older cousin and former friend (neither of which he wanted to be confronted with this early on the journey), his stomach was still churning with worry over his sister. Something was terribly wrong with Elen, and he couldn't do a thing about it.

And then Aldwyn and Cleva and that sneaky Ryle had shown up.

He hadn't even realized who was pointing a crossbow at them until Elwin had shouted Aldwyn's name. The older man's voice was different. Or maybe Gwaine had just been gone too long…

And Aldwyn had a substantial beard now. That had startled Gwaine far more than it ought to have. Uncle Harlan had a long beard, didn't he? _And Father was hardly clean-shaven._ But this was _Aldwyn_ , and it didn't seem right.

 _Well, why is that? Couldn't possibly be the length of time you've been away, can it?_

And Cleva…Good Lord, the last time he's seen her she'd been just a girl! And now…she was all grown up. And quite pretty. Somehow, it was stranger than seeing the twins as teenagers, or Aldwyn looking other than a handsome adolescent.

 _And how exactly do you think you look to them?_

The other knights were clearly startled by Aldwyn, Cleva, and Ryle's reactions. Cleva was gaping, Aldwyn was staring, his eyes growing wider and wider by the second as comprehension dawned on his face, and Ryle was smirking wickedly. Gwaine could care less about Ryle's feelings; he'd hardly ever spoken to the man in Bernicia, even though he'd lurked around the royal castle quite often. He was quite knowledgeable when it came to magical creatures and distant kingdoms; in other words, a useful source of information. But not a very savory personality. _The creep's probably seen me this far south before…Ugh, that's a scary thought; him spying on me…_

But Aldwyn and Cleva were a different story. Aldwyn was his cousin, Cleva was his friend. And they both recognized him. The look in their eyes confirmed it. Besides clear recognition, there was curiosity. Confusion.

And fear?

 _And I'm just a word or two away from being revealed as Everard and Elwin's cousin, which will lead to a lot of extremely awkward questions. Questions I don't know if I can answer._

And he didn't know how to get out of this situation.

A glance at the twins showed him that they were equally worried and confused as to what to do. Everard gave him a warning look, Elwin's gaze flitting nervously from Gwaine to Aldwyn.

However, the next move was not made by any of them.

Gwaine barely registered any movement before Cleva slammed into him, wrapping him in an embrace so tight that he was temporarily robbed of the capability to breathe.

Coughing, he managed to gasp out, "Cleva…choking here…"

She released him abruptly…then cuffed him over the back of the head. Hard. "You," she snarled menacingly, "are very, _very_ late." But she said it surprisingly quietly.

It took him less than a second to recall their last conversation. "Still got that smile?" he asked softly, with a hint of his usual humor. It was the only thing he could think of to say.

Tears in her eyes, Cleva laughed a little, though she was clearly trying to hold onto her anger and failing miserably. "You noble fool."

"I try my best." he said jokingly, though he was unable to stop tears from gathering in his own eyes.

As she stepped back a little, he looked beyond her to gauge the reactions of the others. Aldwyn was still frozen, Ryle was still smirking, Merlin and the twins looked worried. Arthur and the knights just looked flabbergasted. Elyan was muttering something to Percival, who shrugged in response.

Gwaine was pretty startled himself when Elwin, of all people, came to the rescue. "I _told_ you, Everard!" he said boisterously, elbowing his brother. "It _was_ the same Gwaine!"

Moments later Gwaine was thanking all the higher powers he'd ever heard of that Elwin had such an overactive imagination and that Everard was so intuitive when it came to Elwin. The brown-eyed twin immediately seemed to pick up on his brother's scheme. "I didn't say that it _wasn't_ him!" Everard protested, very convincingly. "I just said we ought to be sure before we start dumping accusations on him!"

"But we wouldn't be accusing him of anything! We would just be _asking_ …"

Catching on to what the twins were suggesting, Gwaine spoke quickly, "Ah, so I see we were avoiding asking each other roughly the same thing!" He grinned at Aldwyn. "I wondered if they were your brothers! Honestly, twins with the names Everard and Elwin? I really should have put it together and said something…"

"Must be all the ale you regularly consume. It's destroyed your common sense." Merlin chimed in.

Gwaine shot a grateful look at his friend as Elwin started talking again. "So you really are my brother's old friend? I didn't realize you knew Cleva, too."

By this point, Aldwyn's eyes were nearly bugging out of his head, but Cleva's confusion was rapidly melting away into a carefully placed mask of mild annoyance. "Of course I knew him!" the young woman snapped. "And _you_ ," she glowered at Gwaine, who found himself cringing slightly, "you need a lesson in being observant. Or in speaking up, perhaps."

Finally, _finally_ , Aldwyn caught on. "Come on, Cleva, it's _Gwaine_. Unless he's changed drastically over the last ten years or so, he probably needs a lesson in keeping his mouth shut."

Gwaine clearly heard Leon mutter, "Can't argue with that."

Striding forward, Aldwyn reached out and gripped Gwaine's arm tightly. Gwaine returned the gesture, forcing himself to meet his cousin's icy grey eyes. "Aldwyn, mate, when did you grow a beard?"

Aldwyn smiled; a forced smile. "Somewhere around the time I got married, co…old friend."

"Ah, yes. Braeden, Elwin said? Don't recall the name…" _Liar, liar._

"I don't know if you met her ever, but she's lovely. Gorgeous, actually."

"I have no doubt of that, you self-important flirt." Gwaine grinned.

"And I suppose you're breaking hearts left and right, pretentious rooster that you are."

 _Wow, I never though I'd actually be happy to hear_ that _insult._ "Well, I learned from the best." he shot back.

"So you two know each other?" Arthur broke in to their conversation.

Gwaine turned to the king, mouth suddenly dry. "Why, yes, Arthur, we do. Aldwyn and I used to be very good friends years and years ago…"

"Before you decided to wander off to Lord knows where and never sent any word on your whereabouts, you absentminded fool." Aldwyn punched Gwaine's arm.

Gwaine hit him back, grinning. _This_ , at least, felt familiar. "That's _Sir_ Gwaine to you, Aldwyn!"

* * *

Cleva had quickly begun to regret her impulsive embrace. She hadn't been thinking; well, she hadn't been thinking much of anything but _Gwaine's alive and he's okay and he's right here._ She hadn't realized how worried she had been about him until she saw him standing in front of her, years older and wearing the Pendragon red but still undeniably _there_.

So she'd run forward and hugged him, as if only a couple weeks and not ten years had passed since their parting. And now she regretted the gesture, not least because Gwaine had seemed so uncomfortable with it.

And then she'd realized that he hadn't told his friends from Camelot that he was related to Everard and Elwin. This became clear when the twins started a loud argument over their own stupidity and reluctance during which they clearly labeled Gwaine as an "old friend" of Aldwyn's.

 _Why are they lying about his identity?_ Cleva made up her mind to ask Gwaine why in private as she effortlessly joined in the deception. Aldwyn caught on a minute later while Ryle…Ryle was still smirking like he was up to no good.

 _Never mind Ryle; Gwaine's the important thing right now. Him and the twins._

Cleva couldn't help but wonder how those three were ranked in Aldwyn's mind.

Aldwyn and Gwaine clasped arms like old companions (which they were, in a way) and joked with each other (rather stiffly) for a minute. Then they began to patch together a rather rambling tale of them being friends back in Bernicia while the twins interjected with their own comments every so often. Cleva, as she was not called upon just then to contribute to the conversation, took a couple minutes to unobtrusively scrutinize each of the travelers from Camelot in turn. _So Percival's the big one who looks confused, Elyan's the dark-skinned one who looks even more confused, Leon has longer blond hair and he looks intrigued…King Arthur's fairly obvious,_ he _just looks interested…the manservant, Merlin, he looks nice enough…Funny, he looks worried, more so than the others…And he keeps looking at Gwaine like he's going to go up in smoke at any second…_

"…I appreciate what you have done for my brothers, but there is no need for you to go any further." Aldwyn's clipped tones called Cleva back to the current discussion. "You may return to your city if you wish; we'll take the twins from here."

Cleva nearly panicked when she understood the implications of what Aldwyn was suggesting. _The Pendragon and his knights will go back to Camelot…and Gwaine will go with them. We'll never see him again. "Old friend" wouldn't be enough justification for him to come with us…What is Aldwyn thinking?_ His expression was so stony right now that Cleva had trouble figuring out what was going through his head. _Is he forgetting that Gwaine's technically not with us? Or is he planning to leave him behind?_

Could he really be that angry?

King Arthur spoke then, drawing her attention. "Unless you truly have grudge against us, I would still like to help escort the twins back to your homeland."

"And why is that?" Aldwyn said suspiciously.

 _If he wasn't a prince, I would kick him for using that tone of voice,_ Cleva thought.

Thankfully, Arthur Pendragon was apparently a decently patient fellow. He didn't get flustered at Aldwyn's skeptical inquiry. "I like to finish what I've started." he said calmly. "Besides, you'll be safer traveling with more than a couple companions. And I must admit, I've become rather interested in visiting Bernicia."

 _Is that a threat?_ Cleva rather thought not, but Aldwyn kept his guarded expression. "Well, if you put it that way…" The man's clear grey eyes scanned the assembled company; coming to rest, briefly, on Gwaine. "Everard, Elwin, what do you say?" Aldwyn asked suddenly, his gaze switching to the boys.

Cleva suppressed an amused smile at the identical blank looks on the twins' faces. "You're actually asking us for our opinion?" Elwin asked incredulously, then he grinned. "This," he said at the knights, "…is an incredible turn of events. Never before has our dear but portentous older brother…"

Everard cut his brother's joking words off. "I say let them come with us. It would probably be safer, since we have so far to go."

As Aldwyn turned from his brother back to Arthur, Cleva caught Everard's eye and gestured subtly with her head in Gwaine's direction. _Is he why you support the Pendragon's suggestion?_

The teenager nodded slightly in confirmation. Cleva took a deep breath, partly in relief, partly to steel herself for whatever lay ahead.

They'd have Gwaine in sight for a while longer, at least.

* * *

Only an hour or so after Aldwyn Barclayn and his companions had descended upon the camp, the company set off. Arthur and Ryle took the lead; thought only after the dark-haired man had a long argument with Aldwyn over the merits of that idea.

Watching them, Merlin figured that Aldwyn only surrendered so that he could ride behind and talk easily with his brothers. Merlin could see the man's true concern for his brothers; it showed in his apparent unwillingness to take his eyes off of them, his constant inquires after their health (he was aghast when he learned that Elwin had been hurt; much to the younger boy's dismay), and in the way he often reached out to lay a hand on Everard or Elwin's shoulder momentarily, as if to assure himself that they were still riding next to them. Merlin, watching furtively so not to embarrass the brothers, found it quite touching. But he knew that the others were at least listening to them; every time Everard and Elwin sighed heavily and responded exasperatedly to Aldwyn's endless reprimands and loudly voiced concerns, Merlin glimpsed at least one of the knights grinning in amusement. It was a bit funny, Merlin had to admit.

Cleva was nice enough; at least she was polite (Ryle had already been incredibly rude to everyone; rude in a sly, sarcastic way that was deeply annoying and very offensive).

Merlin had asked Gwaine about Cleva already. Maneuvering around so that he was next to Gwaine as they checked their horses' saddles, Merlin had asked quietly, so not to draw unwanted attention, "Same Cleva?"

The way the dark-haired knight yanked on the saddle girth was answer enough. Merlin had more cause to worry than that, however. Gwaine had barely spoken since the night before (except for that strained conversation with Aldwyn). Undoubtedly it had something to do with his sister's predicament. Gwaine was convinced that his sister was in terrible trouble; Merlin of all people knew the value of such instincts.

 _Well, she was going to Bernicia, wasn't she? Now we're going there. Maybe we'll find her on the way. Maybe we can get her out of whatever trouble she's landed herself in._

Merlin hoped so. Elen might have tried to kill him, but she was Gwaine's sister. Gwaine was his friend. And Merlin was loyal to his friends.

 _But what will Gwaine do if he's forced to choose between his duty as a Knight of Camelot and his family?_

That was a question that Merlin felt even Gwaine didn't want to answer.

* * *

 **Well, that one was a lot of talking, staring, and thinking. I hope it was okay, though!**

 **I'll try to update soon!**


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

* * *

 **Hello, everyone!**

 **I'm so sorry about the late update...Suffice to say, I've had a rough couple weeks; mostly because of the INSANE number of orchestra rehearsals/concerts/competitions I've had to perform in. Then inspiration was lacking...oh, well, I'm back now.**

 **Okay, I have a WARNING for this chapter! There is a plot twist brought up near the end which some of you may hate me for. But give it a try, anyway. (Bear in mind that I've been planning it since the very beginning.)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

* * *

Smoke from the campfire drifted up and into the tall trees surrounding the camp. The soft evening sky was tinted violet above the green leaves. Most of the knights were simply lounging about, resting after their hard day's ride. Ryle had slipped off into the woods as he tended to do during the evening. Everard and Elwin where sparring with swords, supervised by a anxious Aldwyn and an entertained Leon. But two of the travelers were actually working.

Cleva handed Merlin a handful of herbs she'd found nearby, which he took with a grateful smile. For the last four days, she and Merlin had been sharing cooking duties. It worked out well; mostly because it was easy for them to be amiable towards each other. Merlin was rather sweet, Cleva had found.

She'd also noticed that Gwaine hadn't been speaking much to anyone but the manservant.

And he'd definitely been avoiding her. Though she'd be lying if she said he was avoiding her more than the others.

 _Blasted stubborn Barclayns._ He wasn't the only one who was acting like an idiot.

So far, Aldwyn had managed to behave like an ass (or at the very least extremely grumpy) towards just about everyone but his younger brothers and Arthur; and the latter was only because Aldwyn had to have a grudging sort of respect for a king that he wasn't at war with. Plus every time the prince verged on rudeness, Gwaine glared at him so fiercely that he shut up.

Ryle was no better. Actually, he was worse because he never even tried being polite to anyone.

As if to make up for it, the twins were very friendly towards the knights of Camelot. From what Cleva could tell, Everard and Elwin had made themselves liked already. Elwin cracked jokes constantly, often lightening everyone's mood while Everard cleverly saved the conversation in several awkward moments; mainly whenever Arthur got to close to the subjects of _magic_ and _royalty_ in relation to the kingdom of Bernicia and Aldwyn would responded with uncomfortable silence.

Cleva had almost immediately decided to cast in her lot with the twins and befriend the knights (though she avoided the king). They were all good and honorable men; that was clear at once.

And Elyan and Percival weren't nobles.

While talking those two knights on the second day of traveling together, Cleva had heard the story of how they helped Arthur retake Camelot when the witch Morgana took over the first time.

"He knighted four of us the night before we went back to Camelot." Elyan had explained. "Lancelot…he died a year or so ago…he was a good man…then Gwaine, then me and Percival. Even though we were commoners." Elyan had laughed a little then. "Arthur admitted beforehand that it wasn't something his father would approve of."

Cleva had wondered wryly if Uther Pendragon would be more offended at the idea of Gwaine the commoner or Gwaine Barclayn being a Knight of Camelot.

 _His friends clearly don't know that he's a noble._

And she understood why. If she was Gwaine, she'd keep her identity secret in Camelot, too.

But she just wished that he'd talk to her.

 _I've missed him. A lot._

"Cleva?" Cleva shook herself from her thoughtful daze and looked up into Merlin's concerned blue eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.

She forced a quick smile and shrugged. "Yes, I'm fine…just…" Her eyes flickered over to where Gwaine was leaning against a pile of saddlebags, watching Elwin and Everard fight.

Merlin followed her gaze. "Gwaine?" he murmured.

"Yes. Him and Aldwyn. And the whole bloody business."

Merlin didn't ask what business she meant. She wondered if he already knew to some extent exactly how messy the whole situation was.

 _It's not my place to explain it if he doesn't._ Still, it could hurt to let a little of her worry out…

"You can trust me." Merlin said, as if reading her thoughts.

Cleva sighed and stirred the pot of stew. "You know, Aldwyn's not usually like this with his brothers." After a short pause, she clarified, "I mean, he's usually not so…easy on them. He's always been a good brother to them; you know, taking them on hunts, teaching them to use a crossbow…But usually he's rather harsh with them. But now he fusses over them constantly. It's just a bit unnerving. For me, at least. It's…" Cleva made a frustrated gesture with one hand. "Aldwyn and his sister Haralda…They're kind of, well, _rough_ with everyone. Even their parents, sometimes. And now Aldwyn's getting nervous if they ride their horses at a gallop…"

Merlin nodded slightly. "I suppose it's normal; I mean, before you lot met up with us, for all he knew they were dead. I'd say he's just very relieved."

"You're right." Cleva replied quickly. "Of course, he's relieved that they're okay; so am I, to be honest. But it's also the way he's treating Gwaine…Like he's done something wrong. Well, I can kind of see why…" Cleva glanced around to make sure none of the knights were close enough to be eavesdropping. "Um…Aldwyn and his family…they don't like Pendragons much…just on principle…"

"Ah, I get it." Merlin grinned at her. "Since they're Barclayns, who allow magic in their kingdom…"

Cleva blinked. "Okay…so, you know that Aldwyn is Gwaine's cousin and that they're…"

"They're part of the royal family of Bernicia?" Merlin sighed. "Gwaine told me…not too long ago, after the; before that he'd lied to me." For an instant, the usually easygoing manservant appeared almost angry.

Cleva was prevented from asking exactly lies Gwaine had told Merlin by Arthur Pendragon's enthusiastic yell of, "Merlin! Is that stew nearly ready or not?"

* * *

Gwaine scooped up a spoonful of thick stew, stared at it for a moment, then dropped the spoon back into the bowl. His stomach was churning so badly that he didn't think he could eat anything without throwing it up.

 _Damn it, Elen, what the hell is going on?_

Once, long ago, shared dreams and sensing each other's emotions had been normal for Elen and Gwaine. Mostly, he attributed it to her magic and her seemingly boundless desire to poke her nose into his business.

After a few years, however, Gwaine's ability to tell exactly what his sister was thinking had seemingly vanished. They had drifted apart; she became their mother's student, learning the art of magic; he became his father's pupil, learning the rules of state as he learned to use a sword. So the siblings had, so to speak, gone their separate ways. Until that strange incident in the cloudy dreamscape, Gwaine hadn't spoken to his sister in a dream for years and years.

And he blamed _that_ on Gaius's sleeping potion.

But now he was sensing Elen's emotions again. Sometimes hardly at all, other times, like now, overwhelmingly.

 _Terror. Pain. Loneliness._ None of these things were what Gwaine often associated with his sister.

 _Mostly pain._

If someone had hurt his sister…

 _I'll kill them. I'll find them and I'll kill them slowly and painfully._

No one else seemed to notice his uneasiness. All around him, the other members of the company ate their dinner, talked, and laughed. Even Aldwyn seemed to relax and let out a chuckle when Elwin made a sly joke about Camelot cloaks and what perfect targets they must be.

Gwaine looked back down at his stew and swallowed. He really should eat; the journey ahead would only get harder and he'd need his strength. But he just couldn't bring himself to.

"Seasoning not to your liking, Gwaine?" Elyan called from across the campfire. "You're making quite a face at that stew!"

"Maybe we should get Merlin to fetch some herbs that better suit Gwaine's taste!" joked Percival.

The other knights laughed, and Gwaine forced a quick smile before forcing himself to swallow a spoonful of the food. The others moved on to another subject, but Gwaine noticed Merlin staring at him.

He was immensely grateful when, a couple minutes later, Merlin stood up and said to the camp in general, "I'm going to get more firewood. Does anyone want to come with me?"

A perfect excuse to get out of the camp for a bit. "Sure, mate, I'll come. Can't guarantee I'll be much help, though." Gwaine managed a joke as he hastily put down his bowl, stood up, and walked over to join Merlin.

Ryle, seated on a log at the very edge of the camp, smirked and said, as Merlin and Gwaine walked past him into the forest, "Someone that pitifully scrawny shouldn't be out alone. Probably a good thing a knight's going with him." His voice held a lot of malice.

Gwaine paused, for a second tempted to give Ryle a nice black eye for the comment. But then he heard Elyan exclaim, "Excuse me? Merlin may not be a knight, but he's stronger than he looks, you know!"

"Is that so?" Ryle shot back.

Satisfied by the resulting clamor coming from Merlin's friends that the manservant would be well-defended in his absence against Ryle's insults, Gwaine hurried after his friend.

Once they were out of earshot of the camp, Merlin stopped and turned to Gwaine. "You really don't look well, Gwaine. Is it your sister?"

Gwaine nodded. "It's worse than usual."

"Have you heard her voice in your head again?"

Indicating the negative, Gwaine began to scour the forest floor for firewood, avoiding Merlin's gaze. No, he hadn't heard Elen's voice; he almost wished that he would. He could learn more from words than mostly vague emotions.

"Do you have any idea where she is?"

"No, Merlin; I've said it a hundred times; I do not!" Gwaine snapped. Quickly regretting his words, he took a deep breath to calm himself before turning to face his friend again. "I'm sorry, Merlin. I know you only want to help."

"Help with what?"

Gwaine spun around. Aldwyn came sauntering through the trees, casually swinging a long stick in his right hand. "We need to talk." he added when it became clear that neither Merlin nor Gwaine were going to answer his query. His grey eyes flickered from Gwaine's face to Merlin and back again.

Gwaine forced himself to remain calm as he stooped to pick up another piece of wood. "Whatever you have to say to me, _cousin_ , you can say in front of Merlin."

"Really." Aldwyn started smacking the stick he held against the nearest tree.

"Yes, really!" Gwaine snarled.

"Gwaine," Merlin murmured, "If you need me to leave…"

"No, you can stay here, Merlin, I mean that. Aldwyn, if you want to talk, start talking." Gwaine straightened and looked straight into his cousin's eyes.

Aldwyn glowered at him. "Well then, here goes…You became a knight of Camelot. I ought to beat you up for that." His voice held a tiny twinge of dark humor.

"You're welcome to try." Gwaine replied icily. "You'd lose and you know it."

"But a knight of _Camelot_?"

"You sound like Everard." Behind him, Gwaine could hear Merlin collecting fallen branches for firewood, but he was obviously listening hard. Somehow Gwaine found that a comfort. "He asked me how I could serve a Pendragon."

"With good reason!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"He's a Pendragon, Gwaine!" Aldwyn nearly shouted. "He's the son of Uther! A man who, in secret, threatened Bernicia with war over refugees from his Great Purge!" _Well, that's news to me._ "Thank God he was a coward…and didn't bother his son with that information…"

"Precisely! Arthur has never threatened Bernicia! He barely knows anything about it! Also, he's a good man. An honorable man. He does not pursue those with magic like wild animals across distant borders!"

"Now, perhaps. But had Arthur been old enough to fight at the time of the Great Purge, do you think he would have hesitated to chase after your mother?"

"Don't bring Mother into this! That's beside the point, anyway! I serve Arthur as one of his knights of my own free will. He is nothing like Uther was!"

"Oh, so you met the snake himself, then?"

"Yeah, he tried to execute me." Gwaine couldn't help but feel a bit of triumph at Aldwyn's almost comical reaction.

The prince was practically spluttering in astonishment and fury. "He…he _dared_? He wanted to execute a _Barclayn_? That _bastard_!"

"He didn't know I was a Barclayn, Aldwyn." Gwaine said tiredly. He didn't like to remember that particular run-in with Uther Pendragon.

Aldwyn's eyes narrowed suddenly. "What did you do, anyway?"

"Oh, I attacked a couple of nobles. Though it turned out later that they weren't who they said they were at all…"

Aldwyn appeared to be, of all things, _offended_. "Well, I hope you realize that if Uther had executed you and we found out, Father would've started a war."

 _Whole lot of comfort that would have been to_ me _._ "Is this the right time to let you know that Arthur was the one who talked his father out of it? If it weren't for Arthur, I'd be dead. Trust me."

"Humph." Aldwyn glared at Gwaine for a minute, then drew in his breath sharply. "Why the hell did you run, cousin?"

Gwaine suddenly felt cold all over. His roiling stomach was almost forgotten. "Must you ask?" he replied flatly. "Seems pretty obvious to me." Out of the corner of his eye, Gwaine noted that Merlin had abandoned the very pretense of gathering more wood and was standing still, watching the exchange.

"Yes, I can understand how you must've been terrified; but running off like that? That…that _hurt_ , damn you! Did it occur to you that we might be worried? That we might wonder where you were and if you were still alive?" Aldwyn's voice grew increasingly desperate-sounding as he spoke.

Gwaine found himself suddenly unable to look into Aldwyn's eyes. "I don't deserve your worry." he whispered in stark contrast to his cousin's loud words.

His cousin simply looked furious. "Father sent men after you, you know! And I tried to find you, too…more than once. But you were very good at covering your tracks. But, in all honesty, Gwaine, you shouldn't have…"

"You don't have to tell me that I'm a fool and a coward! I know that well enough already!" Gwaine's voice cracked. _Don't even think about crying…in front of Aldwyn it would be so humiliating…_

Aldwyn's face suddenly contorted into a pained expression. "Blast it all, Gwaine, it was a bloody _accident_. If it was anyone's fault, it was those bandits who attacked you! No one blames you for it! No one! Least of all your father!"

* * *

It took a minute for Merlin to understand why Gwaine's face had gone so white.

 _No one blames you for it! No one! Least of all your father!_

 _By the Great Dragon!_ Merlin gasped as it hit him. By use of the present tense, Aldwyn was implying that Gwaine's father wasn't dead.

 _But…how?_

Merlin's mind went back to Gwaine's words on that parapet days ago. _"…I never went back and I never can…I'm a murderer…"_

Merlin had wondered a bit then how Gwaine could be so sure that his family knew that he'd killed his own father, but then, they probably weren't stupid and could put two and two together. Besides, Gwaine was so overwhelmed with guilt that he most likely didn't think through his family's reaction all that thoroughly anyhow.

 _But if his father is actually alive…then they_ do _know exactly what happened. But how exactly…_

Merlin was snapped from his thoughts by Aldwyn's panicked exclamation. "Gwaine? Are you all right?"

Gwaine looked close to collapse. "Father is…alive?" he choked out.

Aldwyn looked utterly confused. "What? Gwaine, what do you…" His breath caught suddenly. "Oh, dear God." he whispered. "You thought he…you didn't know that he survived?"

Gwaine didn't respond; instead he simply stared at nothing for a few long moments. Merlin considered putting down his armful of firewood; just in case Gwaine actually fell over and needed someone to catch him.

"Gwaine…" Aldwyn said shakily, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize…" Hesitantly, he moved as if to embrace his cousin.

But Gwaine pushed him away, stumbling backwards. "No…"

Aldwyn halted. "Gwaine, I…"

"Leave me alone!" Gwaine screamed suddenly, throwing the words at his cousin like rocks.

Then he started to stride away from them; not running, but moving quickly enough to almost disappear into the surrounding trees seconds later. Merlin and Aldwyn stared blankly after him.

The Bernician prince shook himself out of his shocked state first. "I'm going after him." he stated, moving to follow his cousin.

Merlin made a hasty decision and stepped into Aldwyn's path. "No, you're not going after him; I am. Take this back to the camp." He shoved his armful of firewood at Aldwyn, who took it only reflexively.

As Merlin made to head after Gwaine, Aldwyn spoke angrily, "Excuse me, but he's _my_ cousin, not yours, and I…"

"And you've upset him enough already for one day." Merlin faced the older man and added in a gentler tone, "He shouldn't be alone right now; I think we both agree on that; but I honestly don't think you'd be able to help him."

"And you think that you can?" Aldwyn shot back.

 _Well…_ "Look, I'm sorry, but…I think that I know him better at the moment. I mean…"

"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean, Merlin." Aldwyn looked into the woods for a moment, his brow furrowed. "Go on, then. I…we don't want him to run off again, now do we?"  
Merlin nodded slightly. "Take that wood back to camp, will you?" Then he started off through the trees.

* * *

 **Okay, there it is, readers! midnightdove** **: I think you saw this coming.**

 **If the ending seems weird, it's because the chapter just "ended" for me there. Oh, my impossible imagination...**

 **I'll try to update sooner next time!**


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

* * *

 **Hi!**

 **Once again, I'm later than I'd thought I'd be...but this chapter is actually rather long, and encompasses several different POVs.**

 **On another note: Thank you everyone! You've given me so much support for this story! So thank you to all those who have read/reviewed/favorited/followed this story!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

* * *

 _Breathe…_

Gwaine slumped into the tree stump he sat against, trying to keep his breathing steady. The forest seemed to keep tipping sideways, as if he'd been at the ale again. But he hadn't been drunk in weeks.

 _Just keep breathing; this isn't the time to be passing out in the middle of the forest…you're just about lost anyway…_

The air was barely chilly, but Gwaine found himself shivering nonetheless.

 _Don't you feel anything right now?_

Besides strangely cold and very tired, not really. Yes, at first he'd been breathless with shock, anger, confusion. But now…

 _Numb_.

It still hadn't really soaked in yet, honestly. Though he kept reliving that moment when Aldwyn had shouted out the truth like Gwaine was expected to know it already.

 _My father is alive._

It didn't seem real. And yet the pain of believing that he was dead seemed like a distant nightmare.

 _Unless this is the dream and that the reality?_

It was all so blurry and confused. Like the other memories that were pressing down on him.

 _His father teaching him to ride a horse._

 _His father in the council chamber with the king, staring down a deranged man who had tried to murder the queen._

 _His father showing him how to disarm an opponent in a swordfight._

 _His father listening with a smile to a story Aunt Gytha was telling._

 _His father calling out orders to the guards._

 _His father riding through the woods on high alert, intent on the hunt._

 _His father sparring with four knights at once; and winning._

 _His father laughing at something Harlan had said._

 _His father comforting him and Elen when they were very young and frightened during a fierce windstorm._

 _His father laying on the ground, bright red blood seeping across the earth beneath him._

Once, he would have thought the knowledge that his father was alive would cause him to be overjoyed.

But now; remembering his father, wondering how he survived, and wondering if he had changed from the man he had used to be; Gwaine felt almost…scared.

 _No one blames you for it! No one! Least of all your father!_

"Is that true?" he whispered. "Or is Aldwyn just saying that?"

"Gwaine? Where are you?"

Gwaine looked up at the sound of Merlin's voice; just in time to see the warlock trip over a tree root and fall flat.

"You alright there, mate?" Gwaine couldn't help but smile a bit as he stood up to assist the other man.

"Yeah." Merlin dusted himself off and grinned sheepishly for a moment before taking on a concerned expression. "The real question is: Are you all right?"

Gwaine failed to hold back a bitter chuckle. "Oh, yes, I'm absolutely _fine_ right now, Merlin."

Merlin flinched. "Sorry."

Instantaneously guilty, Gwaine looked down at the ground and replied awkwardly, "No, I'm sorry, Merlin…it's just…" He paused, not sure what to say for several long minutes. Merlin didn't try to force a conversation; he just stood there quietly, waiting.

It took Gwaine a long time to start speaking again. "For the longest time now…I've felt like there's this trail of blood following me everywhere…It started with my father, then on to the other people I killed. It seemed like every person I even pretended to get close to ended up worse off than before they met me. Until I ran into you and Arthur, I guess. I saved the his life, and yours…then I ended up a knight; and I felt that maybe I actually could belong in Camelot…" He looked up, meeting Merlin's calm gaze. "And now I know that I didn't kill my father. I didn't have to run away. Anything I've been telling myself for the last ten years is a lie. Except…I still hurt him. I still stabbed him and he could have very easily died as I believed he did. And now…nothing makes sense anymore." Gwaine turned away, not trusting his voice any longer.

Merlin spoke a few moments later. "Exactly; he's _not_ dead, Gwaine. You didn't kill him. It was an accident and you running off was a…a misunderstanding."

 _Some misunderstanding_ , Gwaine thought bitterly. _A misunderstanding which stole ten years of my life._

Before that one rainy day, Gwaine's future had always been at least a bit predictable. He had known what was expected of him, to a certain point, and that beyond that it was his choice. He hadn't had a problem with that. It had been a generally accepted fact that he would eventually become a knight of Bernicia and perhaps one day an advisor to the future king. Even if he didn't achieve advisor status (which back then seemed a likely thing) his future was secure. After that day, nothing had been certain.

But speaking of the future king of Bernicia…"Where's Aldwyn?" Gwaine turned to face Merlin again.

Merlin shrugged. "I didn't think you'd want to talk to him, so I told him to go back to the camp with the firewood."

 _He's right; I don't think I could talk to Aldwyn right now._ "Thanks." he muttered.

"What are friends for?"

* * *

Cleva was just starting to clean the dinner dishes (such as there were) when Aldwyn came trudging back into camp with an armful of firewood (which he promptly dumped next to the fire pit). Then, ignoring any inquires from the others ("Is something wrong? Where are Gwaine and Merlin?") he marched over to where Everard and Elwin were lounging, grabbed each twin by the arm, and dragged them to where the horses were tethered a short distance away. He clearly wanted to speak to them alone. By the glower on his face, he probably wanted to berate them for something.

Usually, Cleva wouldn't take much note of this sort of behavior; it was normal amongst the brothers. But she'd been concerned ever since Aldwyn had followed Merlin and Gwaine into the woods. _What if Aldwyn decides to confront Gwaine for being a traitor or something similar?_ The fact that he'd returned alone and in a huff didn't comfort Cleva in the least. It merely convinced her that something had happened. And, wanted to know what exactly, she left the dishes and followed the three Barclayns over to the horses.

"Why didn't you _tell_ him?" Aldwyn snarled as Cleva approached, giving both his brothers a shake.

"Tell who what? And that _hurts_ , Aldwyn!" Elwin exclaimed, trying to tug his arm from the man's grip.

Aldwyn blinked and released his brothers; Cleva suppressed a chuckle. _Well, of course he's going to release them if they say it hurts. As I told Merlin; he's acting soft._

However, there was nothing soft about Aldwyn's voice when he spoke a moment later. "Exactly how much have you been speaking with Gwaine? Everard?"

The older, more responsible twin didn't hesitate. "Not much. I've…We've been keeping our distance, mostly. Gwaine and I had at least one long conversation…mostly about what the hell he was doing in Camelot, but other than that…We haven't talked about home at all, really. For instance, I don't think he knew about Hertha until we were already on this journey and Elwin mentioned her to the knights."

"He _didn't_ know about her." Elwin interrupted. "Didn't you see his face? He looked like you could knock him over with a…with a meat pie." A slight grin played about his mouth.

Cleva suddenly remembered a hazy image of Everard with the remains of a meat pie smeared into his hair. _I can't really remember when that had happened, but Hertha was probably involved…_

"Well, you should have talked to him a bit more," Aldwyn snarled, ignoring Elwin's half-joke, "and told _me_ what he remembered of home. That way I would have known to break the news that his father is alive to him a _little_ more gently than I did. Or _you_ could have told him that and saved me the trouble."

" _What?_ " Everard and Elwin yelped at the same time.

"He thought his father was…" Cleva couldn't finish the sentence.

Aldwyn ran his hand through his hair. "He thought Uncle Goddard was dead." he said bluntly. "And that he killed him in that little 'accident'." He snorted loudly.

"He believed that he killed his father." Everard said blankly. Elwin, looking oddly pale and upset, moved a couple inches closer to his brother.

Cleva was still contemplating Aldwyn's words. "How did you tell him, exactly?" Then, remembering the emphasis Aldwyn had placed on a particular word, "Aldwyn! You don't honestly think that he did it _on purpose_ , do you?"

"Keep your voice down!" the prince snapped as the heads of the Camelot group turned towards them. Lowering his own voice, he answered Cleva's question. "Cleva, don't believe for one second that I'm accusing my own cousin of intentionally harming his father. Gwaine would never do such a thing. It's just…it's so bloody _stupid_ in hindsight…" He glared at nothing for a moment before adding, "I just told him that no one blamed him including his father and he kind of…freaked out. That's when I realized…" He trailed off with a sigh.

"No wonder he ran off." Everard murmured softly.

 _Yes, no wonder._ A heavy, cold feeling settled in Cleva's stomach. _All these years we wondered how he could have just up and ran, even given the circumstances…But he was calling himself a murderer…_

For a moment, Cleva was tempted to go after Gwaine herself. Then she realized that she didn't know _where_ he was. "Aldwyn," she asked quickly, "did he run off or…"

Aldwyn shook his head. "No, he just kind of walked away from me and Merlin…he trusts that manservant, apparently…Merlin went after him."

Elwin asked, unusually timidly, "Will he be all right?"

Aldwyn hesitated briefly before answering. "I hope so."

Everard gave his older brother an unreadable look before heading back to the glowing campfire. Elwin trailed after him, leaving Cleva and Aldwyn alone.

The prince seemed more vulnerable than Cleva had ever seen him before. "Do you think he'll be all right, Cleva?" he whispered, his grey eyes suspiciously misty.

Cleva looked down at her boots, not certain if she should reply or not. Finally, she said, "You were right; no one blames him."

Aldwyn sighed heavily. "I wonder if he really believes that. Even though it's the truth. The look on his face…"

Cleva felt an awful sadness weighing down upon her. _Oh, Gwaine. No one ever blamed you, so you shouldn't blame yourself._

But she knew well enough that it was never that easy.

* * *

The mood in the camp the next morning as they prepared to depart was…less than cheerful, to say in the least.

 _Well, I guess the good weather is wasted on this lot, then,_ Merlin mused. The day was lovely; the sun bright, the sky clear blue dotted with wispy white clouds, the breeze warm and sweet-smelling.

But amongst the travelers, tensions were running high.

Gwaine hadn't spoken a word since last night and wasn't responding to anyone. Everard was ignoring Aldwyn a little too obviously. Aldwyn and Ryle had had three verbal altercations already; the last one would've turned into a fistfight if it hadn't been for the timely intervention of Percival and Leon. Cleva was clearly frustrated with the behavior of everyone else, particularly when she tried to talk to Gwaine and he shrugged her off like everyone else. And Elwin was very quiet and his eyes were suspiciously red.

For some reason, this bothered Merlin most of all. Especially since Aldwyn and Everard was so busy ignoring Aldwyn and Aldwyn was so busy arguing with Ryle that neither was paying attention to their brother.

Around noon as they were all riding northward in more or less of a line, Merlin noticed that Elwin was riding alone and urged his horse to walk next to the boy's. "Hey, Elwin."

"Merlin." Elwin wouldn't look at him.

"What's the matter?" Merlin asked gently. "I promise not to tell anyone, if that helps."

Instead of an answer, he got another question. "Does Gwaine really trust you?"

Merlin glanced around to make sure that no one was eavesdropping before saying, "Yes, I…I like to think that he does."

"Hmm." Elwin frowned. "You know, I was just…Last night and this morning, I was just thinking…of how awful it would be if I thought that I'd been responsible for the death of one of my parents."

Merlin rested his hand briefly on Elwin's shoulder, and a look of understanding passed between them.

Elwin cheered up somewhat after that.

* * *

"Good morning. It's not often that I see you this far from the city, my lord." Hayden took care to keep his voice at a respectful monotone. Inwardly, he was very surprised. It wasn't every day that a person ran across one of the royal family _alone_ in the woods surrounding the city. Particularly if that person was Goddard Barclayn.

The gray-haired prince smiled and nodded in greeting. His pained fatigue was obvious by the way he leaned heavily against a tree. "Hayden. Good to see you. Which one is that?" He gestured towards the young wyvern scampering around the tree trunks, hunting for insects.

Hayden smiled at the creature fondly. "Topaz. He's Obsidian and Citrine's offspring."

"Is Obsidian the one that ate my saddle all those years ago? I'm still amazed that he didn't try that while it was still on the horse."

Hayden couldn't help but laugh. "Emerald helped, as I recall."

Goddard chuckled. "Ah, yes, Emerald. I remember _him_ because…" The older man trailed off, his expression suddenly troubled.

Hayden looked away. He knew perfectly well why Goddard remembered Emerald.

 _Emerald's the one Gwaine liked the best._

An awkward silence later, Hayden worked up the nerve to ask, "What brings you out here, my lord?"

"No need to 'my lord' me, Hayden, I've known you too long." Goddard sighed. "I get tired of the city, sometimes. And it's not so easy to leave it anymore." He frowned slightly, his gaze distant. "It's hard to be a cripple, Hayden."

 _Good Lord, what am I supposed to say to that?_ Hayden found himself watching his wyvern a little more closely than was necessary.

As it turned out, he didn't need to say anything. Goddard started talking again. "I shouldn't say that. I'm not really crippled; just weaker than I used to be. Walking only hurts; it's still possible. I'm being ungrateful."

 _It's incredible: Even when he's upset, he never raises his voice._

Topaz went a little farther into the trees than Hayden was comfortable with; he whistled and the little creature came scurrying back. "Come here." Hayden held out his arm and Topaz scrambled up in onto his shoulder.

When Hayden redirected his attention back to Goddard, the older man was watching him with a sad expression. "I'd better be headed back to the city. It was nice seeing you, Hayden."

"Likewise. Would you…Do you want me to come with you?" _He'll refuse; he may be one of the most selfless men I've ever met, but that doesn't mean he'll allow himself to appear weak._

Goddard shook his head. "It's not necessary. As I said; I'm not really a cripple." The prince reached out and patted the head of the wyvern perched on Hayden's shoulders before turning and walking slowly away through the trees.

Hayden sighed as he watched him go. "Lesson number one, Topaz." he told the little animal who was now nuzzling his neck. "Barclayns are ridiculously stubborn. At times to the point of idiocy."

* * *

The combined smell of sweat, vomit, and mildew permeated the lower levels of the ancient castle. The soft dripping sound of water echoed against the slimy stone walls.

The guards were playing cards again as they drank watered-down ale; they complained about the weakness of the drink but belched appreciatively after every deep gulp.

They were disgusting. They made Elen sick.

 _But everything makes you sick right now._

"Everything" included the light which was filtering through the tiny cracks high in the cell wall. Elen whimpered and doubled over on the floor, covering her head with her hands. But even her slow, careful movements set off another wave of nausea and body pain.

 _Just kill me now and end it._

What a fool she had been. Even before she'd suspected Arthur Pendragon as the instigator of the twins' kidnapping, she'd been an absolute idiot not to consider that the "buyer" of the twins might be leaving his henchmen in the south to collect the boys, while in reality he was in the north. Strategically, it made more sense.

 _It's clever, I'll give him that._

She didn't want to give him anything else. Not information, not satisfaction. The latter she had no choice on, though…

 _I've never been this pathetic…_

The man _was_ clever. He'd had the enchanted shackles ready for just such a prisoner as herself. They were on her day and night, preventing her from using her magic.

 _Just another thing I've done wrong. I allowed myself to become so dependent on magic as a means of defense that I'm useless without it._

She'd tried reaching out for her brother, hoping against hope that whatever happenstance had allowed her to contact her brother in a dream recently would allow it again. But as far as she knew, no good had come of it.

 _Oh, Gwaine…I'm sorry…_ Though she could not, in her present state of mind, quite pinpoint exactly what she was sorry for.

Another waved of pain racked her damaged body. _Why can't I just die in my sleep?_

That would stop her from accidentally telling the enemy anything that could bring harm to her family and country. It would also thwart the enemy from using her against anyone. But so would escaping...

 _I wish I could manage that..._

But at this point, as she heard another guard arrive and give the order for her to be taken out of her cell again, all Elen wanted was for the nightmare to end.

Even if that meant dying.

* * *

 **This story is getting a lot darker than I originally anticipated (okay, that sounds weird considering the prologue and all) but I hope that you still enjoy reading it anyway!**

 **I'll try to update soon!**


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

* * *

 **Hello, everyone!**

 **I'm so sorry that this has taken me so long! No, I haven't fallen into a sinkhole or fled the country. I've just been far too busy and distracted to write.**

 **So, this isn't my favorite chapter that I've written, but hopefully the next one will be better.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

They ran into a group of bandits the very next day.

"What is it with bandits around these parts?" bellowed Aldwyn, before using his crossbow to shoot one of them.

"I haven't the slightest clue!" Arthur shouted back. "Form ranks!" he bellowed.

In response to his command, the members of the company maneuvered their horses to form a defensive half-circle, facing the bandits who were coming from at least three directions.

As usual, Merlin retreated behind the knights, looking out for any branches to fell with magic should the need arise. Also forced behind the knights were Elwin and Everard, who looked both managed to look disgusted and terrified at the same time. They both had swords clenched in their fists. And Lady Cleva had her dagger.

 _Well, isn't this just a regular trip?_ Despite the circumstances, Merlin felt a brief flash of amusement.

The bandits turned out to be a rather pathetic lot; several of them took off running when they realized exactly how many armed men they had run into. The others were quickly dispatched after a few minutes of clanging swords, whistling arrows, and snorting horses; Merlin didn't even feel the need to risk using magic.

Until one bandit managed to yank Gwaine out of his saddle and threw him on the ground.

Merlin stiffened, moving his rearing mount forward just as he heard Elwin let out a shriek. " _Cousin!_ "

In response to Elwin's cry, Merlin saw Aldwyn twist around on his horse's back, take in the situation with a single glance, and throw himself off his mount and onto the thug who was about to run Gwaine through. He knocked over Gwaine's attacker, but the move sent him tumbling straight into the path of more bandits.  
"Aldwyn!" Elwin was half-off his horse before Cleva caught his arm. Everard started yelling at his younger brother to _stay put_ while clearly debating on whether or not to try running to his older brother.

Merlin cast a panicky glance around; all the other knights were occupied with their own opponents, and Aldwyn was still fumbling around on the forest floor, trying to regain his sword (he'd already discarded the crossbow) and his footing. _Leaving him to die because of one foolhardy action is not an option._ Taking a deep breath, Merlin summoned his magic.

He didn't have to use it.

Seconds before Aldwyn would have lost his head to a hefty battleaxe, Gwaine rose up and lunged to his cousin's defense.

* * *

It was terrifyingly easy to fight alongside Aldwyn again. Gwaine found himself back to back with his cousin, moving in tandem to attack, defend, attack again. _Just like old times training together; me and him against Father and Uncle Harlan._ Not that they'd ever won against the king and his brother. _Still, we were a good team._

Seconds later, Gwaine found himself facing Aldwyn after slashing through the throat of another outlaw. His cousin flashed him a quick grin, telling him that he was having the same thoughts. For a fraction of an instant, Gwaine smiled back, then they both returned to the fight.

The noise of the battle vanished suddenly, as it always seemed to. The last bandits had fled or been killed, leaving the group panting, still gripping their weapons and scanning the woods for more foes.

Gwaine forced himself to breath deeply and turned to Aldwyn. "You alright, cousin?" he asked softly.

Aldwyn nodded. "You?"

"I'm fine." _Though_ _I do appear to have a nasty cut on my right arm_ , he realized.

"Is everyone okay?" demanded Arthur. "Gwaine? You were pulled off your mount!"

"I'm all right, Arthur." Gwaine told him. A cursory glance told him that everyone else was fine, too, except…where were the twins?

He figured out where they were a second later when Elwin shot past him and rammed into Aldwyn.

"Easy there, little brother!" Aldwyn chuckled, but Elwin did not loosen his grip as he buried his face in the sleeve of his older brother's tunic. Aldwyn glanced up, meeting Gwaine's gaze as they both realized that the younger boy was crying and trying desperately not to show it. Slightly uncomfortable by the fact, Gwaine turned away only to find Everard standing very close to him, looking shaky. "You nearly died." The boy's voice was no more than a whisper.

"Well, I didn't." Another glance around and Gwaine realized that almost everyone was staring at Aldwyn, the twins, and him; with the notable exceptions of Cleva, who was occupied with trying to get her frightened horse calmed down, and Ryle, who was staring off into the trees with a blank, bored expression on his face. _To hell with the stares_ , Gwaine thought to himself as he stepped forward and pulled Everard into a quick embrace. "We're still alive, Ev." he murmured as he released the boy.

"I know." Everard managed a fleeting smile before walking over to pry Elwin off of their older brother.

Gwaine turned around again to find Arthur giving him a shrewd look. "Hey, Princess, shouldn't we be checking to see if all the thugs are dead or not?"

They didn't travel much further that day. Elwin was still shaky, Elyan, Leon, and Gwaine had all sustained minor injuries, and everyone was exhausted. As soon as they found a suitable clearing next to a swift brook, they stopped and set up camp.

Gwaine was sitting, his back to a large tree, apart from the others, when Aldwyn walked up and handed him a bowl of the stew Merlin and Cleva had prepared. "I don't know about you, but I'm starved." Plopping down next to Gwaine, Aldwyn began to devour his own portion of stew.

"Fighting will do that." Gwaine grinned, watching his cousin out of the corners of his eyes.

Aldwyn laughed through a mouthful of food. "Hey, admit it; a horde of bandits is _nothing_ compared to the combined might of our fathers on training day!"

Gwaine snorted in amusement, briefly drawing the attention of Percival and Leon, who were examining their weapons nearby. When they had looked away again, Gwaine, now serious, asked Aldwyn, "How is he?"

It was incredibly hard for him to say it; in fact, he asked it so quietly that for a moment he wasn't certain that his cousin had heard him. But then Aldwyn faced him with a knowing look. "You mean Uncle Goddard?"

Gwaine swallowed and nodded. "You said…that he doesn't…doesn't blame me for what…what happened. Is that true?"

"Yes." Aldwyn shifted uncomfortably where he sat.

Reading it (correctly) as more than just an badly-placed root underneath the older man, Gwaine spoke sharply, "What aren't you telling me, Aldwyn?"

Aldwyn wouldn't meet his gaze. "It's nothing, Gwaine."

"Like hell it is." When Aldwyn still would look at him, Gwaine hissed angrily, "Tell me!"

Aldwyn looked up, but only at the tree branches above. "Uncle Goddard…" he began hesitantly, "…your father…he's, um…"

" _What?_ " Gwaine just about shouted the word.

Sighing at the number of gazes turned in their direction, Aldwyn said in a low tone, "Gwaine, your father isn't…well. He's…uh…not as strong as he used to be, I mean, of course he's not, neither is my father…strong as he used to be, I mean, they're both getting older…I mean that your father is…I don't want to say crippled, because he's _not_ …well, maybe he is. A little."

Gwaine had already suffered a multitude of emotions that day; terror, horror, embarrassment, hopelessness. He'd nearly been killed, he'd nearly seen his cousin get killed, he'd watch his other cousin break down in tears, and he'd been stared at Arthur in a far too calculating way ever since. But nothing was as bad as the guilt that came flooding into him, searing his stomach and bringing a bitter taste to his mouth. "What do you mean?"

"Um…" Clearly, Aldwyn regretted saying anything. "Well, he…he can't walk without feeling some pain. Riding a horse any faster than a walk is almost impossible much of the time, and swordsmanship is rather beyond his abilities…he has good days and bad days…sometimes it's better or worse…not that he ever complains, but everyone knows…"

"It's because of what I did, isn't it?" Gwaine choked out.

"Gwaine…"

But he was already on his feet, dinner forgotten, wanting nothing else but to disappear into the woods again. Ignoring the calls of the knights (who by this point could tell that something was very wrong), he made to hurry off into the cover of the trees.

He didn't get more than a few feet before Aldwyn grabbed his arm…tightly. And almost before he knew it, Gwaine was engaged in a violent tussling match with his cousin.

Thankfully, neither of them were wearing cloaks. That would have been even more difficult.

Deaf to the yells of alarm from all sides, Gwaine grappled wildly, trying to pin his cousin down. Quickly realizing that it was no good (Aldwyn was slightly taller and heavier), and settled with trying to land as many hard blows as possible. Aldwyn was already taking a similar approach.

Attacking each other like wild animals and screaming curses all the while, they rolled over the leafy ground, neither managing to even come close to victory before they were roughly yanked apart.

"Let me go, Percival!" Gwaine yelled as Aldwyn shouted something similar at Arthur and Leon, who each had a hold of one of his arms. The damage had been done; Aldwyn's protests were muffled by the blood seeping from his nose, and Gwaine could feel the beginnings of what was sure to be a nasty black eye. Not to mention that the cut he'd received at the hand of a bandit earlier that day was bleeding again. _Just wonderful._

Glaring balefully at the men restraining him, Aldwyn managed to free one arm from Arthur and wiped his face with his sleeve. "Damn you, cousin!" he bellowed.

"No, damn _you_!" Gwaine yelled back. "You and your blasted brothers getting yourselves lost in Camelot when you had not business leaving Bernicia!"

"No business leaving Bernicia?" Aldwyn snarled. "The twins were taken by force and I came to rescue them! What's _your_ excuse?"

 _You know my excuses._ He knew he didn't have to say it. Gwaine suddenly felt very tired and stopped even his token resistance against Percival. "I'm sorry." he muttered.

As Percival released Gwaine cautiously and Aldwyn shook Leon off, Arthur stepped forward and said very loudly and demandingly, "All right, what the hell is going on?"

By this point, the entire company had gathered around the scene of the fight, most with varyingly expressions of curiosity, confusion, and concern. Merlin was looking both Gwaine and Aldwyn up and down, apparently assessing their injuries. Cleva merely looked disgusted; Ryle, amused. Elwin was half-hiding behind Everard. _Poor kid looks like he's been crying. Again._

Gwaine sighed. He didn't want to answer Arthur's question any more than Aldwyn seemed to. So he automatically tried evasion. "What do you mean, Arthur?" he asked innocently.

Arthur appeared close to livid by that point. "What I mean, _Sir_ Gwaine," he ground out, "is what exactly is going on between you and Aldwyn?" His piercing blue eyes narrowed. "He called you his cousin, Gwaine…is that the truth?"

Gwaine's gaze flew back to Aldwyn. For a moment, they simply locked gazes; then Aldwyn gave a slight shrug as if to say, _Well, what the hell?_

Taking a deep breath, Gwaine turned back to Arthur. "Yes, Arthur, Aldwyn…and the twins…are my cousins."

Actually, the reactions of the others were rather amusing. Several jaws dropped and multiple cries of " _What?_ " came from among the knights. Cleva let out a squeaky moan and buried her face in her hands. Elwin and Everard's eyes grew huge as they stared at Gwaine and Aldwyn. Ryle actually burst out laughing and walked off, chuckling to himself (and earning himself some raised eyebrows).

"And why exactly haven't you told us that yet?" Arthur demanded.

Gwaine couldn't meet anyone's gaze. "I had my reasons."

Before Arthur could attack that response, Aldwyn broke in. "What he means to say is; _we_ had our reasons." He sent a glare in his brothers' direction.

"He's right." Everard managed to say under the Pendragon's resulting scrutiny. "I talked to Gwaine about it even before we left Camelot, and we decided not to mention our familial relationship." Gwaine internally thanked all the gods for clever younger cousins.

 _And while Everard remains suave as ever, Elwin looks like he's about to either start crying or start laughing. I hope it's the later._

Gwaine could see the humor in this situation.

It didn't look like Arthur could, though.

* * *

 _Bandits and fistfights and terribly timed revelations. This is one day I could do without._ Cleva wished futilely that she could just slap some sense into the idiot men who were always blurting out the wrong things. Or at least the right things at the wrong times.

Gwaine waited until Arthur looked back at him before adding, "No, we're not telling you those reasons."

"Because it's none of your business." Aldwyn snapped as Arthur whipped around to confront him next.

"All you need to know is that our family isn't…well, it's complicated." Everard, ever the diplomat, explained patiently.

 _"Complicated" as in absolutely insane, you mean._

"Barclayns." she muttered. Elwin heard her and let out a stifled snort.

By that point, Arthur had launched into a rambling tirade about _honor_ , _trust_ , _loyalty_ and whatnot, the other knights were either supporting him or asking questions, Merlin was looking both Aldwyn and Gwaine over and tending to their injuries, ignoring the dispute entirely, and Ryle had vanished again.

And Cleva had had enough.

"WOULD YOU ALL JUST SHUT IT!" she yelled suddenly. "What does it matter? So what if they're related and decided to keep it from you crowd from Camelot? If I hadn't known already, I daresay they wouldn't have told me either. Now, evening is on us, and we are all tired, and I think we should all just get some sleep and then maybe, just maybe we'll all be in the frame of mind to discuss who's related to whom. So will you all just shut up?"

To her immense surprise, they did.

Except for Everard and Elwin. After an initial period of shock, they started giggling nervously. And continued to do so at intervals for hours.

* * *

 **Don't you hate it when someone yells and you ought to be scared but you're not; you're amused and you want to laugh _so_ badly? Well, I guess Elwin and Everard had that problem.**

 **Hopefully I'll be able to update sooner next time; I also hope you all haven't given up on this story! :)**


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

* * *

 **Hi, everyone! Sorry for the wait!**

 **Warnings: Angsty chapter! And a bit of swearing...but that seems to be in every chapter I write.**

 **For some reason, the last part of this chapter spun off into character development for a semi-minor character. I'm sorry if it disappoints you or anything...but I couldn't help myself.**

 **Also: lately my chapters have been kind of short...but I'm working to rectify that, I promise!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"What exactly are you playing at?" Merlin hissed.

The air around the camp that morning was so thick with awkward trepidation that Merlin could swear it was choking him. It seemed like everyone was either avoiding or snapping at everybody else. Except Ryle, who just went about his packing with a sly grin on his face.

Gwaine yanked the girth strap on his horse's saddle with more force than was strictly necessary. But he remained silent in response to Merlin's question. Merlin found himself growing increasingly agitated. "Gwaine, you've been absurdly hush-hush about your cousins so far, and now you're just blurting out everything at once…I mean, what's next? You tell Arthur that your uncle is the king of Bernicia?"

Gwaine snorted. "Ha. No bloody way."

"Actually, why not?"

"Seriously? That would be _almost_ , though not quite, as bad as going up to the Princess and telling him…" Gwaine paused, glanced around, and lowered his voice further as he finished. "…telling him that my mother's a sorceress." When Merlin just raised his eyebrows, Gwaine sighed. "Merlin, mate, it's not…You already know how much my family dislikes Pendragons. And if Arthur gets wind of just how much…well, he's got his pride, you know. Can't imagine he'd take it well."

 _Oh, for heaven's sake…_ "Gwaine…" Merlin began, annoyed, but was interrupted by Aldwyn.

"Oi, cousin! The Pendragon wants to speak with you." Aldwyn looked disgusted by the fact as he approached them. "He's over by the stream, looking all _kingly_ and _broody_ …" He trailed off muttering under his breath as he saddled his own mount.

Merlin caught Gwaine's apologetic glance as the knight moved away to speak with Arthur. Turning back to the older man next to him, Merlin said casually, "You know, you're going to have to look "kingly and broody" someday. I mean, if you ever become a king yourself."

He wasn't sure what possessed him to say it, or what he meant by it. He could feel a bit of anger towards Aldwyn, and wanted to let the prince know that. At the same time, he almost felt like laughing.

Before he could feel too worried about the consequences of his statement, Aldwyn looked over at and said dryly, "Trust me, if you met my father, you wouldn't say that all kings are constantly "kingly and broody". I have no intention of becoming anything less than what my father is."

When he didn't elaborate and went back to harnessing his horse, Merlin ventured, "A good king?"

"Yes. A good and _honest_ king. Without the broodiness."

Merlin didn't miss the sudden grin on Aldwyn's face. "You're having me on, aren't you?"

"Maybe." Aldwyn then shot a concerned look in the direction that Gwaine had gone; Merlin followed his gaze.

"He'll be fine." Merlin said quickly. "Arthur's nothing if not fair."

"Hmm."

Merlin hesitated, then asked, "If you don't mind me prying…"

"That depends entirely on what you are prying about."

Merlin chuckled and decided that Aldwyn wasn't really that bad at all. "Well, what I wanted to know is…Why, exactly, did you and Gwaine start beating each other up last night?"

Aldwyn shrugged. "We were having a discussion and it got a little…tense. Trust me, it happened a lot when we were younger. Our logic then was 'when in doubt, start punching'."

That really made Merlin laugh. "You know, I don't think that's changed much for him."

Aldwyn let out a guffaw at that comment just as Everard and Elwin came up and demanded (at the exact same time) to know what the joke was.

* * *

 _For someone who wants to talk, Arthur's sure taking his time getting to it_. Gwaine sighed, leaned against a tree, and waited for the king of Camelot to finish pacing up and down the bank of the stream.

A short distance away, Gwaine could hear the sounds of the camp being cleaned up. The horses were snorting and stamping, pots were clanging as Cleva loudly refused to let the twins help her pack them, and the knights were conversing in either quick, loud squabbles or in low mutters.

 _It's probably all my fault, too._

Gwaine wasn't entirely sure what Arthur was planning to ask him, but he could guess. And as he had told Merlin, he had absolutely no intention of telling Arthur about his royal blood. Telling Arthur that he was a noble would alone be awkward to say in the least, since everyone in Camelot (not counting Merlin and Gaius) believed him to have a commoner background. But the bit about being the nephew of a king (and the fact that said king's sons were also currently with the company) would be nothing short of cataclysmic. There would probably be a lot of shouting.

 _There probably will be anyway._ Unwilling to take the strain any longer, Gwaine pushed himself upright off the tree and asked in a fake lazy tone, "What's on your mind, Princess?"

Arthur stopped abruptly and spun to face him. "Did the twins know?"

 _Okay, I honestly did not expect that to be the lead question…But I can manage this._ "Did the twins know what?"

" _Gwaine!_ "

"Alright, alright!" Gwaine held up his hands in surrender. "Yes, they did."

"All right, then; when is the last time you saw them or Aldwyn before the last few weeks?"

"Ten years ago, more or less."

"Ten years!" Arthur looked flabbergasted. "The twins would have been…"

"Rather young, yes. But they aren't stupid, and neither am I."

"Fine, then; why the hell haven't you seen them for a decade?"

"None of your business."

Arthur had been speaking very loudly and roughly, but now his voice went very soft as he stepped closer to Gwaine. "Gwaine, in the last couple months you've gone from mostly irresponsible drunkard to completely irresponsible slacker to an almost entirely different person. So as _your king_ ," he ground out, "I demand that you explain exactly what is going on here."

And Gwaine lost his temper. A stupid thing to do, but he couldn't stop himself just then.

Thankfully he managed not to yell as he got right into Arthur's face and hissed, "You may be my king, Arthur, but that does not me you hold complete sway over me. I joined your knights as your friend…with my friends." _Damn it, Gwaine, stop right there!_ But he didn't. "I have watched you become king of Camelot. I have followed you into battle and not regretted it. You are a noble man. You saved my life. But _nothing_ gives you the right to order me to explain to you what has gone on between me and my _family_. It's nothing you need concern yourself with, Arthur, and you might as well get used to that."

He stepped back, slightly breathless. Arthur was staring at him, blue eyes wide. "So," the king said quietly, "that is all you have to say?"

"Yes."

Arthur shook his head slightly. "Well, then," he said brusquely, "we'd better be off. Best not to waste the daylight." He pushed past Gwaine, heading back towards the others; most of whom were probably watching them with decided interest by this point.

Gwaine remained where he was for a moment, trying to get his emotions under control.

 _A thousand curses on my big mouth._

As he turned and moved back towards the others, he caught Cleva's gaze. She looked at him sympathetically and mouthed, _Are you all right?_

He nodded in response, then said out loud, "Let me help you with that." Smiling a little, Cleva allowed him to take her laden pack and load it onto her horse.

He'd ride with her today. They hadn't had a proper conversation in a very long time.

* * *

Ryle was an expert at annoying people with his words. His cutting remarks were rather infamous, and he prided himself on that. He was known as a good source of information; he traveled a great deal and could blend in easily when he chose.

He knew that he was generally disliked. And he didn't really mind. His view of other people had been greatly soured many years ago, and he found it far easier to laugh at them than to curse them. It made it easier on himself. It was easy to be callous, to find other people beneath him in order to distance himself from emotional attachment. For him, he world was something to be amused at in a cruel manner; this was safe. This kept him invulnerable.

And because of his generally unlikable behavior, people left him alone. He liked it that way; he liked being alone.

Still, there were times when he felt a stirring, saw a situation or an action that brought up a memory of warmth, of family, of home. He forced these feelings and memories far back into himself whenever they surfaced, keeping himself in check as always. But these moments still occurred, no matter how many times he told himself that it was no use, he could never have those things again. He convinced himself, almost, that he didn't really want them.

 _If you have something, you can lose it._

He'd lost far too much. He would not… _could_ not let it happen ever again.

But still the memories battled into his conscious, threatening to break down his walls. Vulnerable internal emotions fought for domination over his cold exterior. Always he forced it back. But it kept happening.

Over the last few years, he noticed a pattern. These moments of foolish vulnerability happened most often in connection with a single person; a person, oddly enough, who like him tended to hide any weakness, though not as extremely.

It annoyed him to no end. How could he _possibly_ find himself constantly disarmed by the smile, the laugh, or the sheer sight of her? Why on earth couldn't he block her out like the rest?

He didn't know. All he knew was that, despite his constant attempt to feel indifferent, he cared.

And now he was worried.

 _Blasted emotions_.

It started around noon, when he dropped a ways behind the rest of the company to check for anything out of the ordinary, as he often did. He saw nothing suspicious, so he urged his horse faster and soon caught up with the rest.

And he soon came close to where Lady Cleva and Gwaine were riding next to each other and talking.

At first, their words merely made him roll his eyes. They were chatting about their childhood together, about the things they had used to do. He even heard them make mention of "friendship rings", though he wasn't sure what that was about exactly.

And then Gwaine fell suddenly silent and Cleva began to pester him, asking him if anything was wrong.

 _Oh, for goodness' sakes, he had a fight with the Pendragon this morning. Of course something's wrong; he's two steps away from losing his knighthood._ Now, that was an interesting thought…'interesting' as in 'amusing'…

Then he heard Gwaine mumble something about his sister.

"Gwaine? I didn't quite catch that…What did you just say about Elen?"

Gwaine took his time answering, as Ryle made sure that it wasn't obvious that he was eavesdropping. Finally, the rough Barclayn said quietly, "I've been…sensing it for a while now…it's hard to explain, but…Cleva, I think something's very wrong with Elen. In fact, I think she's in terrible danger. I keep…I'm feeling her pain, somehow, but I don't know what to do…I have no idea even _where_ she is, Cleva…"

Moving quickly out of earshot as Cleva attempted to comfort Gwaine somewhat, Ryle tried (and failed) to keep himself from worrying. _It's nothing, Gwaine's just imagining it, probably…_

But he wouldn't imagine something like that. Even Ryle knew it. Gwaine and Elen were twins, they had magic in their blood…it wasn't inconceivable that they would have some kind of empathic connection.

 _And if it's real…if Elen Barclayn is really in trouble…_

Now Ryle was worried. Very much so.

 _Damn_.

* * *

 **I'll try to update soon! :)**


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

* * *

 **Hello, everyone!**

 **Once again, I am very, very late in updating. I'm so sorry! But real life has been so blasted hectic lately!**

 **So, without further preamble, let's get on with this chapter.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"Put it down!"

"No! Why should I?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake…"

"Because I said so!"

"He's got a point, actually…"

"Well, I won't!"

"Oh, wonderful…"

"Why are you being so impossible?"

"Because he wants to?"

"No reason at all. But I still think…"

"Really? I don't believe that you're thinking right now…"

" _Put it down_ , damn it!"

"Good grief…"

"No, I won't!"

" _Elwin!_ " Aldwyn and Everard yelled at the same time.

Merlin winced as he watched Elwin dart through the trees, running from his brothers. The company had just stopped at a stream to water the horses, and Elwin had taken the opportunity to steal Aldwyn's crossbow, which was apparently something no one was allowed to do at any time. Elwin was in as much as a foul mood as anyone else at the moment, and had been pulling pranks on the others every chance he got in an apparent attempt to cheer himself up. It just happened to be his older brother right now.

Merlin accidentally bumped into Cleva as he moved to refill the water flasks in his hands. "Sorry."

"It's alright." Cleva said over the Elwin's shrieks as he was cornered by Aldwyn and Everard. "They are not particularly happy right now." she said with a jerk of the head in their direction.

"Well, no one else is either." Merlin sighed. "Arthur's a hundred times worse when he's grumpy like he's been lately…" He trailed off as he went to fill the water flasks.

Cleva followed him. "He really reacts strongly when someone doesn't give him the whole truth, doesn't he?"

Merlin glanced around to make sure that Arthur wasn't within earshot. "Um…yeah, he does, but I guess he's earned the right to. I mean, first his father lied to him about his half-sister, then his sister lied to him about being an ally against Camelot with _her_ half-sister, then his uncle lied to him about being allied with his half-sister _after_ he found out that she wanted him dead…So you can't really blame him for being all that defensive."

Cleva frowned. "You're right; I can't. Honestly, though," she continued after a moment, "is there anyone in his family who _hasn't_ lied to him?"

Merlin considered that. "Well…I don't think his mother did. Not really." (He recalled the spirit called up by Morgause and decided that it didn't count.) "But she died when he was born."

Cleva grimaced. "I'd behave far more paranoid than Arthur if all that had happened to me."

"Trust me, his father was much, _much_ worse."

"So we 'barbarians' in Bernicia heard." Cleva responded dryly.

Merlin snorted, then was momentarily distracted by the sight of Aldwyn and the twins returning to the stream. Aldwyn had his crossbow back, but all three were coated in leaves and looked disgusted. Merlin hastily looked away lest they catch him staring.

Fastening the lids of the water flasks, he stood up and asked lightly, "Cleva, where are you from? Originally, I mean. Gwaine mentioned that you weren't born in Bernicia…"

Cleva shrugged. "Caerleon. My father was a knight who died in battle. The king took Mother's property away so we…What?"

Merlin was grinning. "Cleva, I think Gwaine stole your life story and told me it was his."

"He told you his father was a knight from Caerleon who…" Cleva couldn't complete her sentence, she was laughing too hard. "Gwaine!" she shouted after she'd finished laughing.

"What?" he called from where he stood on the other side of the brook.

"Caerleon? _Seriously?_ "

The knights of Camelot, Arthur included, looked confused, but Everard let out a loud sigh. "Yes, Cleva, seriously; that's what he told Merlin."

Gwaine glared across the stream. "Merlin!"

Merlin put up his hands in mock surrender. "I'm sorry! I just asked her where she was from!"

Aldwyn finally caught on to what they were talking about. "Gwaine!"

"Yes, it's disgraceful, isn't it?" Everard said with another exaggerated sigh.

"Everard!"

"He just said what Aldwyn was thinking! Right, Aldwyn?"

" _Elwin!_ "

"Now that you've all finished clearing up who's who, perhaps we can get moving again." Arthur said waspishly.

Cleva grinned mischievously at Merlin as they remounted their horses. As they began to cross the shallow stream, she leaned over and whispered, "Usually I don't find my…my past being mentioned lightly very funny. But…it's Gwaine, and it's such a bizarre situation, so…"

Merlin nodded. "And it's easier to smile that to frown, right?"

She readily agreed.

* * *

"Try anything with me Elwin and I'll dump you in the next pond we pass by." Gwaine told his younger cousin as the boy brought his mount up behind him.

"Wow, you sound just like Aldwyn does most of the time at home." Elwin commented.

"Somehow I doubt it's ever stopped you before." Gwaine hid a smile.

"Well…no. But usually Aldwyn is very stern about some things…like his precious target practice."

"I daresay that sternness on the training field is why you are such an exceptional knife-thrower." Gwaine pointed out.

"I suppose…" Elwin admitted reluctantly. With a dramatic sigh, he added, "My instructor is a tyrant."

"Hey, you can't call anyone a tyrant unless you've met Uther Pendragon." Gwaine didn't even try to hide his amusement this time.

"But he's dead! So I'll _never_ meet him!"

"You see? So therefore you _can't_ call anyone a tyrant, least of all your training instructor."

"That doesn't make any sense!" Elwin protested.

"And since when does everything _you_ say make any sense? I distinctly remember some of the things you said when you were very young…"

"I was practically a baby! I didn't know any better!"

"And you do now?" Gwaine laughed out loud at the look on Elwin's face. "Relax, El, I'm just kidding."

Elwin cocked his head to one side and eyed Gwaine curiously. "You know…" He stopped.

"What?"

Elwin looked down at the leaf-strewn path beneath his horse's hooves, seemingly embarrassed. "You know how Aldwyn's not usually very temperamental, but he's not exactly the…uh, the playful type?"

 _Well, he used to be pretty mischievous, but…Maybe he grew up._ Gwaine reflected on his conversations with his older cousin for a moment. _Okay, I'd say he certainly did._ "So?" Gwaine asked neutrally.

"I always thought you'd be…exactly like him."

"Thought?"

Elwin was definitely avoiding his gaze. "I didn't remember you at all. Everard did, a little, and Aldwyn talked about you enough so that I could pretend like I remembered you, but…I don't think I ever really did. I just remembered what I'd been told about you. Like the piggyback rides. Everard and Aldwyn have described memories so often that it's almost like they're mine, but not quite. It just…I don't know why, but it makes me feel guilty."

Gwaine shrugged. "It's okay. I don't remember much from when I was that age, either. It's perfectly normal. And besides, " he added, "has it ever occurred to you that some of those memories _are_ actually yours?"

Elwin looked thoughtful, but didn't respond.

Feeling an urge to change the subject, Gwaine asked, "I was wondering if you could tell me something?"

"What?"

He almost chuckled at the trepidation in the boy's voice. "Is Great-Aunt Gytha still telling stories?"

Elwin's face immediately brightened. "Oh, yes, she is! She spends most of her days telling stories to whoever will listen. Which is a lot of people. She knows so many old tales…"

Gwaine smiled reminiscently. "I remember going to her chambers with Aldwyn, Elen, and Haralda. We'd sit and listen to her tell stories for hours. Sometimes we'd demand that she tell our favorite tales over and over again. It didn't matter how many times we'd heard them before."

"I know! Me and Everard used to go and listen to her also…we still do, even though we don't have as much time as we used to…Which is your favorite story of hers?"

Gwaine took a moment to recall its name. " _The Vanishing Cliffs_." That was what Gytha had always called it, without fail.

"The one about the fishermen chasing the cliffs while trying to get back to shore? And the Kelpies?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"Why?"

Gwaine laughed. "Probably because it never ceased to scare the hell out of me. Every single time."

Elwin giggled. Lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, he said, "It does that to me too."

"But it's not your favorite, is it?"

"No. I like the one about the hawks and the goblins better." Elwin replied readily, referring to a rather humorous old story of a "war" between northern moor hawks and southern goblins.

"Let me guess; you're on the side of the goblins." Gwaine grinned.

"Oh, but of course!" Elwin replied dramatically. "Mischief always!"

They got more than a few stares from the rest of the company as they both burst out laughing. They were still chuckling a while later when they arrived at a meadow where they spent the night.

* * *

Cleva was feeling overall relief at the fact that they hadn't gotten terribly lost on the way back to Bernicia. If only the trip _from_ Bernicia had been so smooth (in regards to navigation, that is).

But, of course, this time, everyone was just as grumpy, if not more so. There were certainly more people around to be disgruntled.

Cleva was honestly just plain tired of it. _But how do you tell a group of…let's see…eight men to snap out of it? It's hard enough getting them to shut up! And I'm not even counting the twins…_

Still, Cleva could find things to enjoy about the remainder of the journey. The weather was lovely. The landscape was lovely. She'd always enjoyed being outdoors; she wasn't the type of lady to spend all day inside doing needlework and whatnot. Though the endless riding did get a bit tiresome after a while. At least she was used to it.

What she was not used to was the tension that hung about the company on this absurdly beautiful morning. She toyed with the idea of bursting into song in order to break the near-silence. Her voice wasn't very good, but it wasn't terrible either. _Mediocre, that's the word._ But it might loosen the stress a bit.

She didn't get a chance to try.

As they rode through a narrow gully, the surrounding woods seemed to explode with men in mismatching armor swinging maces, battle-axes, and swords. There were a lot of them…and even in Cleva's rather inexperienced eyes, way too many of them for the company to fight off if they stayed put.

Arthur and Aldwyn seemed to come to a similar conclusion at the same moment.

" _Scatter!_ " the southern king and northern prince shouted at the same instant.

As Cleva pulled her horse's head around and galloped back the way she had come, she heard the first sounds of metal crashing onto metal.

They had been drawn into another skirmish.

 _Something tells me that this one won't turn out as well._

* * *

 **I'm sorry about the cliff-hanger! But at the same time, I'm not, so...**

 **But I _am_ sorry that I have to tell you that there will be no more updates until Thursday at least. :( I'm going to a sort of "summer camp" for pipe organ students this next week, which is really exciting but I won't have access to a computer until it's over.**

 **Before I forget: Thanks again, all of you, for reading/reviewing/favoriting/following!**

 **Have a great day/night!**


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

* * *

 **Hi!**

 **I've stayed up way to late writing this, so I hope you all think it's all right!**

 **This chapter is mostly from Gwaine's POV, with a little of Merlin's.**

 **Warning: I may be paranoid, but I feel like I need to warn you that there are implications of sexual assault in this chapter. And mention of torture. But I promise (with almost complete certainty) that this story will never go above a T rating.**

* * *

Even with carefully-laid plans, battles and skirmishes consisted mostly of chaotic improvisation.

And even the best-laid traps could foiled. At least in part.

Gwaine briefly glimpsed Cleva and the twins as they spurred their horses back in the direction that they had come from, seemingly escaping the worst of the combat. After that he had almost no time to think about anyone's safety but his own.

Unable to escape the gully himself, he tried to stay on his horse for as long as possible, but given the situation it was impossible. His mount reared and bucked violently in response to the fighting around it, eventually throwing Gwaine off. But the knight was prepared and landed more or less on his feet, sword out and ready.

He certainly needed it. The adversaries just seemed to keep coming.

Instincts took over yet again as he fought, trying as best as he could to work his way back to his companions, or at least the few he could still see and hear. But there were too many thugs. He was slowly but steadily being driven back against a pile of boulders despite his best efforts to escape and find the higher ground.

He fought well, as always. But he was overwhelmed by sheer numbers and the fact that his recently right injured arm gave out and ceased to work properly after too much exertion.

It was around then that he realized that his adversaries were not trying to kill him. They were trying to capture him instead.

And soon enough they did, one seizing his sword arm and wrenching his weapon from his grasp while another brought him to his knees with a heavy blow to the shoulder with a mace. Gwaine yelled in pain and tried to twist out of their grasp, but they held him down. As one thug tied his hands, he bit into the arm of another that was just within his reach.

For that he received a blow to the skull which made his head spin. His captors took advantage of his sudden unsteadiness to blindfold him. With his eyes now useless, he immediately reached out with his other senses and realized, with a sinking feeling, that the sounds of battle had all but died.

 _So either everyone's captured like me or they're all dead._

Unfortunately he didn't get the chance to call out to anyone before he was gagged as well.

 _Damn._

Not only did his body ache like hell, but now he had no clue where anyone else was save for the stinking thugs pressing in on all sides.

He was immensely relieved when, a few minutes later, he found himself pushed into close proximity to someone who was yelling (well, trying to) through his gag in a voice that sounded very much like Arthur Pendragon's.

 _Well, that's me and the Princess accounted for…I just hope everyone else is alive…and hopefully far away from here…_

But even if they were, Gwaine knew that the others wouldn't stop until he and Arthur were rescued.

Since apparently their captors didn't have any interest in simply lopping their heads off.

 _Which is something they might have already done with everyone else, though…_

But judging by what he could hear, he and Arthur were not the only prisoners.

Their captors were not gentle and spoke very little as the captives were forced to walk, stumbling and tripping almost every step, for what Gwaine judged to be around three miles, more or less. Most of what was said were commands to either "shut up" or "get moving", punctuated by numerous curses. Not that any of the prisoners were actually speaking audible words, of course, the gags prevented that, but the variously-toned grunts and muffled yells alerted Gwaine to the fact that at least four other people had been captured.

 _Just wonderful._

These couldn't possibly be ordinary bandits. Those killed and pillaged without discrimination, but these men…

 _Slave traders, maybe?_

Gwaine didn't like that idea any better.

What seemed like hours later, the group suddenly halted. After a murmured conversation between the ruffians (of which Gwaine couldn't hear a word), they started moving again, only now the prisoners were forced up and through what were clearly stone staircases and halls. Gwaine could hear everyone's footsteps echoing down mostly empty passageways, along with the distant murmur of rough voices.

 _So now we're in a large stone building, most likely a castle. The question is, whose castle? And where the hell is it? We're nearly out of Rheged, maybe Gododdin…_

Despite wanting to know very much what was going on, Gwaine still felt unprepared when he was pushed forward onto a stone floor and had his blindfold yanked off.

Blinking furiously to adjust to the sudden increase of light, Gwaine looked around frantically to figure out who exactly was with him.

Arthur was directly to his right, with Aldwyn beyond that. Turning his head, Gwaine found that Elyan was on his left, with Merlin and Leon also on their knees next to him. Arthur, Aldwyn, and Merlin were also blinking and looking around, though Elyan looked only half-conscious and Leon appeared to be having trouble breathing.

 _So Cleva, Percival, and the twins got away. And Ryle has some magic, so of course he did, too._

Taking his eyes off his companions, Gwaine examined their present situation.

They were in a large, dilapidated throne room of sorts. The stone around the arched windows on the left wall and the other end of the hall was crumbling and the floor was missing several large paving stones. At least two dozen armed men surrounded them on all sides, and sitting on a makeshift throne before them was a hulking figure dressed all in stained, tangled furs. He leered at the prisoners, showing off his yellowed teeth from behind a huge grey beard that was more knotted than his furs. A huge battleaxe rested against the side of his throne.

"Well, well, what have we here?" he snarled.

 _His voice is just as unpleasant as the rest of him._ Gwaine involuntarily longed to make a quick comeback, but there was still a gag in his mouth that prevented him from doing so.

There was a long moment of silence before the fur-clad man on the throne snapped out, "Remove their gags! I want them to be able to speak." With the last few words, he stood and made his way towards the prisoners as their guards removed the gags, none too gently.

Though he might want them able to talk, the man made no immediate attempts at initiating a conversation. Instead, he paced up and down in front of them, peering at each one intently. And when he finally spoke, his words were directed at his soldiers. "How many got away?"

One of his thugs responded promptly. "We saw one woman, two men, and a pair of boys fleeing, m'lord Haig."

 _Ah, so he's a rouge warlord of sorts. Dangerous, has plenty of resources by the looks of it, and is most likely somewhat insane. Could this situation get much worse?_

"Lord Haig" made a displeased face, but continued to scrutinize his prisoners intently. Then his eyes caught something as he came to a stop in front of Gwaine. "Well, well." he growled.

Gwaine recoiled from Haig's foul breath as the man reached forward and hooked his fingers on the chain Gwaine wore about his neck. He took a few moments to examine the pendant, seemingly disregarding the ring. "Well, if it isn't…This is far better than those little boys, my friends!...let me see…Aldwyn Barclayn, am I correct?"

It took Gwaine all of three seconds to understand. _He's after the princes for some reason...he must have had the twins kidnapped, now he thinks that I'm my cousin…because of the bloody pendant…_

And then Gwaine realized what he had to do. "That's about right." he replied coolly, summoning whatever dignity he had left.

"Cousin, no!" shouted Aldwyn.

"Shut up, Gwaine!" Gwaine snapped back at him.

Haig looked from one to the other, apparently very thoughtful.

"What the hell is going on?" demanded Arthur suddenly.

Haig turned to him with a mildly confused expression. "Who are you, precisely?" he ground out.

 _Thank God we hid all the things we had that bore the Camelot crest before we entered Rheged._ What had been merely a precaution in order to avoid any political awkwardness had probably saved them from a even worse situation. It was bad enough that Haig knew that he had members of one royal house in his grasp, let alone two.

Aldwyn, thankfully, answered before Arthur or another one of the knights could say something stupidly honorable or honorably stupid. "They're nobody of consequence. The question is, what exactly do you want with us in the first place?"

Haig smiled cruelly. "I want a lot of things, my friends, but first of all, I want to have you meet another guest of mine. Of course, I believe that you've _met_ her before…" He made a gesture towards a couple guards, who left through the main door. Haig turned back to the prisoners.

"I hired some slave traders to capture those children. I knew that someone would be after them…and what better way to lure even more Barclayns out of Bernicia? If I know one thing about your family, it is that you are loyal to a fault…A few of my men were waiting in Cornwall to retrieve the boys, and bring them back to me. Either way, I would have at least those two in my grasp, and perhaps those who had come after to try and find them. Imagine my displeasure when I lost contact with the men I hired…I suppose they are dead? No matter, enough of my plan has worked."

"What is it you want?" Gwaine asked icily. _I don't know exactly who he is, but I think I do have an idea of what he's after…_

Haig laughed harshly. "Isn't it obvious? I want revenge…for wrongs the Barclayns have wrought. But I'm getting ahead of myself…about my other guest. I was pleased to find her, I admit…and even more pleased when I realized who she was. But unfortunately, she didn't give us any information worth having…luckily my spies are vigilant and your company rather negligent."

Gwaine felt as if he'd been clouted in the stomach. For suddenly he knew exactly who Haig's "guest" was.

 _No, no, no…_

The door behind them opened. The two guards returned dragging somebody. They walked around the prisoners and deposited their burden on her knees in front of them.

It was Elen.

 _What the hell did they do to my sister?_

It took all of Gwaine's self-control not to scream her name.

* * *

Merlin felt nothing but horror at the sight of his former adversary. But not because they had once fought.

The once-beautiful young woman was a pitiful sight. She was filthy, her entire body caked in dirt and blood. Her clothes were crusted to her and from what Merlin could see of her back, it was a solid mass of welts underneath the remaining strips of her tunic, probably from a whip. Her wrists were particularly bloodied, and her golden hair hung in limp, ragged strands down around her shoulders.

But the worst part was her face. It was mostly undamaged, save for being dirty like the rest of her, but it was bizarrely blank. Her brown eyes were dull, lifeless.

Merlin tore his eyes away from her and chanced a glance at Gwaine. The dark-haired knight's face was white, his jaw clenched. And his dark eyes were blazing.

"What did you do to her?" That was Aldwyn, who apparently felt the need to enunciate what everyone else was thinking.

Looking at Arthur, Merlin could see that the king was horrified, but confused. _He doesn't know who she is…_

Haig looked almost gleeful. "Sometimes torture breaks people and they confess. Other times…they just break. And though she hasn't given us any useful information, I will confess that we've had quite a lot of…fun with her, so to speak. Haven't we, men?"

Several soldiers guffawed. Merlin felt like throwing up as he realized what they were talking about. _Those monsters…_

"Elen." Gwaine finally spoke, very quietly. " _Elen_." he repeated after a moment, more loudly.

Merlin looked quickly at the young woman, but she showed no response to her brother's words.

Haig was pacing again. "I have no idea who most of you are." he growled, "But I do know what I think; that two of you are lying to me."

Merlin watched as the warlord came to a stop and glared down at Gwaine and Aldwyn in turn. "You think that you are very clever, don't you? Trying to confuse me as to which cousin is which? It's true; I've never met either of you. But I do happen to know...it slipped my mind briefly, however...that Aldwyn Barclayn has grey eyes. I did ask one of my sources for a physical description."

"Shit." Aldwyn growled.

Merlin had to agree with that.

* * *

 **So, another "kind-of" cliffhanger. Sorry!**

 **I just got back from organ camp yesterday (and it was amazing!), but tomorrow I'm going on a hiking trip. I should be back by Monday, though. Hopefully I can update then!**

 **Have a great day/night!**


	22. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

* * *

 **Hello, everyone!**

 **This chapter was so intense for me to write; not sure why. But I hope you all like it!**

 **On a related note, I listened to Lindsey Stirling's "Shatter Me" over and over while writing the second half...it's an amazing song, I totally recommend listening to it (if you like Lindsey Stirling's kind of music).**

 **I give you fair warning: this is another "abrupt ending" chapter.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"You have a couple bruised ribs; nothing more serious."

Merlin gave Leon a quick smile as the knight nodded. "Thank you, Merlin."

"I only wish I could do more, but under the present circumstances…" Turning to look into the next cell, Merlin called, "Elyan? Are you still feeling dizzy?"

"Only a bit." Elyan replied from the cramped cell he was presently sharing with Arthur.

"What exactly did they hit you with?" Leon asked after a brief pause. "I didn't see much blood, but you acted like you were half-asleep for hours."

"I think it was a tree branch, actually. A really heavy one." Elyan grimaced. Next to him, seated along the cell's back wall, Arthur stared at the ceiling in a preoccupied fashion.

Merlin sighed and stiffly took a seat on the stone floor as well. At least their hands were untied now.

Haig's men had thrown them into the cells at least an hour previously, while Haig himself had kept Gwaine and Aldwyn in the throne room with him.

 _And Elen was in there too._

Merlin could only imagine what Gwaine was going through right now, having to see his sister like that.

 _He was right when he said that something was wrong, that something had happened to her._

And now Haig was going to…what? _Torture them, kill them? And what about us?_

There was a long period of near-silence as the four men became occupied with their individual thoughts. Merlin found his mind going back to the battle.

Everything had fallen apart so fast. He'd stayed close to Arthur, naturally, which had resulted in him being captured as well. If he'd been alone, his magic would have made short work of his adversaries. But in front of his king…there just hadn't been that option. Once they subdued him and Arthur, it was over. Merlin had seen Leon get kicked by his own horse and tackled by enemies shortly before Elyan was walloped over the head and also captured.

 _At least Cleva and the twins and Percival escaped…and that fellow Ryle…I hope they regroup and go for help…if there's time for that, which might not be the case…_

Merlin's thoughts were unexpectedly interrupted when Arthur blurted out, "What the hell is a Barclayn?"

Merlin exchanged a glance with Leon, who grimaced. But it was Elyan who responded. "It sounded like a family name, Sire."

Arthur let out an exasperated sigh. "I _noticed_ that, Elyan. I just want to know which family it is and why I've never heard of it." The king glanced at each of his companions in turn.

"Well, they must be a Bernician noble family of sorts, and it fits in with the way that they behave." Leon pointed out. "Or, at least, the way the twins and Aldwyn behave, I can't say the same for Gwaine. After all, we never guessed…"

"That he was a noble." Elyan finished for him. "But if Aldwyn and the twins are nobles, then Gwaine must be too since he's their cousin. And you saw what he did; he tried to pass as Aldwyn."

"And failed rather spectacularly." Arthur noted. "But which noble family are they? As I mentioned before I've never even _heard_ of the Barclayns. And what on earth does this Haig want with them? He said revenge; revenge for what?"

For a fraction of an instant, Merlin debated simply blurting out what he did know; that the Barclayns were the royal family of Bernicia. But he disregarded the idea almost instantly.

For one thing, it wasn't Merlin's secret to tell.

 _And I do seem to keep a lot of those, don't I?_

Not to mention that the information, if not broken gently, might give Arthur a heart attack.

* * *

One of the first things Gwaine had noticed about Haig was that he was surprisingly…"well spoken" for a rouge. The way he used his words was quite refined compared to most warlords Gwaine had encountered.

He and Aldwyn didn't have to wait long before finding out why.

Shortly after sending their friends from Camelot out of the room (presumably to the dungeons), Haig settled himself on his throne with a flagon of wine and began to talk directly to the two young men, completely ignoring the crumpled form of Elen at his feet.

"Many, many years ago, far more than I care to recall, I was poised to become a knight of the Kingdom of Bernicia. My father was a trusted member of the court, close advisor to King Dalbert, and my mother a most prestigious lady."

 _So he's actually a noble. But…good lord, King Dalbert? Meaning Grandpapa?_ Gwaine summoned up some very vague memories of his deceased grandfather, who had died over twenty years previously. _Exactly how long has Haig been out for revenge?_ Apparently a very long time.

"My parents had always been rather disappointed that I was an only child, but pleased that I would become a strong knight and perhaps one day a court advisor like my father."

"Let me guess; it didn't work out properly." Aldwyn sneered.

 _Well, he beat me to that one,_ Gwaine thought.

Haig snorted and took a swig of wine. "Not exactly. I did become a knight. But my mother ruined our family's good name shortly before that happened."

"Did she sleep with the wrong person?" Gwaine suggested, earning himself an eye roll from Aldwyn.

"No, as a matter of fact, she did not. She tried to kill the king."

After a brief moment of silence, Haig continued, "She was caught, and executed. Further investigation reassured the king that my father and I had nothing to do with it. But our honor was sullied. My father eventually had to leave his position in the court. And when I became a knight, I was always considered an outsider because of my mother's betrayal."

 _It sounds to me like he blames his mother for all that, though. So why does he hate the Barclayns so much?_

"Finally, after years of loyal service, I earned the trust of my fellow knights and even the trust of the young Prince Harlan."

"My father never made any mention of you." Aldwyn said haughtily when Haig paused again.

"Unsurprising, given your family's boundless pride. A couple years after my father's death, I saved your father's life in battle. He thanked me and offered me a reward in return. There was only one thing I desired, one thing I treasured above all the rest."

"And that was….?" Gwaine inquired, keeping his voice impersonal.

"The lovely Princess Gerarda. I asked for her hand in marriage."

Aldwyn promptly burst out laughing. "So, you want revenge on the entire Barclayn clan because my father told you that you couldn't marry his sister? That's absurd!"

Haig threw aside his wine flagon and stood, his expression darkening. "He did not refuse out of political reasons; King Dalbert had yet to betroth her to Axton of Strathclyde. He refused out of pride, out of the belief that a mere noble of Bernicia was not a fit match for his sister!"

Gwaine thought briefly about his Aunt Gerarda. _Well…he's not. That's rather obvious. I'm not even being prideful here._

Haig began to pace agitatedly. "Not did he only refuse my request, but he told his father. And his sister. And the entire court, so that I could be humiliated before the kingdom! Because I was not good enough for a filthy Barclayn!"

He stopped in his tracks to deliver a sharp kick to Elen's ribs. She only let out a soft moan and weakly flinched away.

Had Gwaine been unbound and free of guards Haig would have been dead in a second. As it was he could only scream out a barrage of swear words, to which Haig only responded with a gleeful laugh before kicking Elen again. "I chose to leave Bernicia, and I have planned my revenge ever since. I care not for Gerarda any longer…she has grown old, and besides, what is love? A fleeting fancy. But dishonor…the sting of dishonor never fades. You, your lying cousin, and your precious sister can wait a little longer for death. I intend to enjoy your deaths as much as possible. Have no doubt that I will make sure that your family finds out about it and that they will get what remains of your mangled bodies. And while I'm at it, I'll have my men look around for the twins. Why not? Perhaps we'll be lucky enough to find at least one of them."

This time it was Aldwyn's turn to vociferously curse Haig and all of his ancestors.

* * *

Arthur, Merlin, Leon, and Elyan had been sitting in silence for a while when five guards arrived; two each for Aldwyn and Gwaine and another with Elen slung over his shoulder. They shoved Aldwyn into one of the cells across the cramped passageway from the knights of Camelot and pushed Gwaine into another before the fifth guard practically threw Elen in after him.

As the guards stalked off to join a few others at the end of the passageway, Merlin stood up and crossed to the door of his cell. "Are you all right?" he asked worriedly.

Aldwyn muttered something unrepeatable and dragged his hand distractedly through his tangled hair. Gwaine paid even less attention to Merlin, instead focusing on his sister.

"Elen." he whispered as he pulled her head onto his lap, gently pushing her hair out of her face (apparently the guards had untied the Barclayns as well). From what Merlin could see, the young woman was unconscious or at the very least incredibly lethargic.

 _How long has she been like that?_ "Gwaine?" Merlin ventured after a moment

If he hadn't been in rather cramped quarters, Merlin probably would've retreated hurriedly from the look Gwaine turned on him now. He'd never seen the knight's dark eyes filled with that much cold fury. "I'm going to kill him." he growled. "And then I'm following him to hell and killing him again."

Merlin let out a relieved sigh. _At least he's not talking about me._ "How bad are her injuries?" he asked carefully. _As much as I support his desire for revenge, now is really not the time…_

Gwaine seemed to calm down slightly and took a few moments to examine Elen's inert body. "She's been tortured, obviously…many of these wounds are infected…"

"Why the hell didn't she use magic to free herself?" demanded Aldwyn irately from his cell.

The exclamations from Arthur and his knights were partially drowned out my Gwaine's furious response. "Take a look at her wrists, Aldwyn. They aren't just raw; they're burnt. That filthy bastard used magic-suppressing shackles on her."

"Well, how exactly did he get hold of her in the first place?"

"How the hell should I know? I only…"

"All right, before this discussion goes any further, I want to know exactly who that woman is!" Arthur bellowed.

 _Oh, just brilliant, Arthur. Now Gwaine looks like he wants to kill you too._

"This woman, Arthur," Gwaine snarled, "is my sister. And if you refer to her in that tone of voice again, I swear that I'll make you regret it."

"Your…" Arthur halted, clearly at loss for words.

It was Leon who broke the sudden silence. "Your sister is a…a sorceress?"

Gwaine laughed, and Merlin winced. It was that horribly bitter laugh that he'd only heard from his friend a couple times. "Yes, she is. Does that bother you, _Sir_ Leon? My mother is a sorceress too, a healer. Like her parents before her. Unfortunately," His gaze flew back to Arthur, "her younger siblings never got the chance to learn to control their gifts because Uther Pendragon decided to drown all three of them."

"Gwaine…" But Merlin knew, deep down, that no words of his would change what was happening. All of the anger Gwaine had held against the Pendragons, all of the fury he'd tried to control, was breaking loose.

And Merlin knew, in that instant between his weak attempt at pacifying his friend and Arthur's next words, that Gwaine was never going back to Camelot.

* * *

Ryle hadn't fled the battle. At least, not entirely.

He'd galloped his horse away, making sure that his would-be opponents saw him, before urging his mount into some bushes a short ways away and turning them both into a rock.

All right, it was an illusion of a rock, plus it was a pain to keep in place even for the very few minutes that it was necessary. But it did work. The rouges scattered and disappeared, and Ryle was left liberated to flee or do as much sneaking as he chose.

He occupied himself with the latter. He'd followed his former pursuers, discovered and assessed their stronghold, and eavesdropped for a while.

What he'd found out made him so angry that he could barely see straight.

Ryle had magic. But he was no fool. He knew that it would be difficult, too difficult to attack on his own or even sneak in without backup. And Cleva, the teenage twins, and Sir Percival were not the help he was thinking of, even if he could find them.

He'd traveled this way before. He knew where he was. And he knew where he was headed now, with his horse at full gallop.

 _Hayden's wyverns had better be good for something._

* * *

 **Bad news...it's a cliffy. You'll have to wait until the next chapter to hear what Arthur says.**

 **Good news...I'm in a writing mood right now, so the next update may even be today/tonight! (if you want it to be :D)**

 **Side note: Dalbert = shining valley (according to my source)**

 **Thanks to everyone for your continued support! It means so much!**


	23. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

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 **Hi! (For the second time today :D)**

 **I meant to get this up earlier today. But...the bloody power went out at my house and I lost a few paragraphs and then the power stayed out for hours...so this is late. Sorry. I hate power outages :(**

 **Anyway...enjoy the chapter! I hope it doesn't disappoint!**

* * *

"My father killed…your mother's siblings?" Arthur sounded, regrettably, rather idiotic as he said this. Merlin couldn't blame him all that much for it, though.

Gwaine snorted. "No, he just gave the order. Naturally, he never did like getting his pretty hands soiled, now did he?"

"How dare you…" began Arthur, but Gwaine cut him off.

"How dare I insult your father? Oh, come on, Princess, don't you want to insult mine, too? For marrying a sorceress? How could he be so _stupid_!" Gwaine was laughing again. "I don't have magic myself, if that's what you're _really_ worried about. If I did I probably would've killed Uther when I had the chance. Yeah, I meant that, _Pendragon_." He intentionally whispered the last word, presumably so that the guards didn't hear, but his tone was still acidy.

Arthur stood up and moved to the front of his cell, completely livid. But he kept his voice low as he ground out, "If you hated my father so much, why did you become one of my knights?"

"The key word in that question is 'my'. Or 'your', depending on your point of view." Gently easing his sister's head off his lap, Gwaine also stood and stepped forward so he could glare directly through the bars at Arthur. "I became one of _your_ knights partly because I had nothing better to do with myself, but also because I believed…I _hoped_ that you were different. That you weren't entirely your father's son."

"And now you think…what? That I am my father's son? I loved and respected my father, but I do not adhere to all his doctrines. You know that! I do my best to be a just and honorable king!"

Gwaine shook his head. "Oh, Arthur, here we go again." Venom seemed to drip from his every word. "Just and _honorable_. You Pendragon's and your 'honor'. Now, what the hell is your version honor? The right to wear a bright cloak and swear to defend your homeland at all costs, even when it's wrong? The right to claim revenge for being _dis_ honored? Let me tell you something, Arthur…upstairs, in that throne room, is someone who has taken honor a few steps to far, just like you've come so close to doing so many times…and just like your father did for the entirety of his reign. Honor…I see nothing honorable about killing children, do you? Or unarmed prisoners…we were all a witness to that, Arthur, if you recall…I see no honor in hunting people for something they cannot change. Because magic is _not a choice_ , Arthur. I learned that very early. Perhaps if you and your father had gotten that through your thick skulls a little earlier, _your_ sister wouldn't be trying to kill you all the time."

"Magic…" Arthur gathered himself and launched his own attack. "Magic killed my parents! Magic has tried to destroy Camelot a thousand times over! Magic is evil! It corrupts and devastates…I'm not saying your family is evil, Gwaine, but magic…"

"Spare me the lecture, Pendragon!"

"Spare us all." Aldwyn grumbled, but Gwaine wasn't finished.

" _Magic_ has not tried to destroy Camelot, those who _use_ magic for evil have! Can't you see the difference, Arthur? Or are you really too much like your father? God knows I've tried to defend you, saying that isn't true. But maybe I was mistaken."

"Too much like _my_ father? I'd like to know exactly how much you're like _your_ father, Gwaine! And, for that matter, who the hell are you two, anyway? We find two Bernician boys in the woods, captured by slave traders, then we rescue them, then it turns out they're the cousins of one of my knights, then we end up captured by some insane warlord…what is his problem with you…you _Barclayns_? He said he wants revenge…for _what_?"

Gwaine completely ignored the latter half of what Arthur had said. " _My_ father, Arthur? I don't know exactly how similar I am to my father, but I like to think that he is a man of true honor. Not that we Bernicians particularly enjoy using the word all that often."

 _If it weren't for the bars on these cells, I have a feeling that somebody would have a very black eye right about now. And a few broken ribs._ Merlin groaned inwardly. _This is not going well at all…_

It was Elyan who spoke next, clearly wanting to diffuse the situation somewhat. "Well," he said as he scrambled to his feet to stand beside Arthur, "I suppose we'll have to see that out for ourselves when we reach Bernicia. I think getting out of _here_ is first priority, though."

"It is." Aldwyn spoke suddenly before Arthur and Gwaine could start arguing again. "We do need to get out of here. But you lot," he gestured with his head at the men from Camelot, "you are not entering Bernicia. None of you."

"And why ever not?" Leon asked, clearly offended.

"Because I said so." Aldwyn stood up, seemingly much taller than normal in the shadowy dungeon. "And for your information, Pendragon, the Barclayn family is the ruling family of Bernicia. And as Crown Prince, I am telling you that you are not to enter my father's kingdom."

Dead silence. Merlin resisted the urge to drop his head into his hands.

Elyan's voice broke the stillness. "Gwaine…is he telling the truth?"

"Yes." Gwaine abruptly sat down again before carefully pulling his sister close to him. "He's royalty, I'm royalty, the twins are royalty. And yes, he'll kill you if you try to cross the border into Bernicia without his go-ahead. Barclayns respond badly to provocation."

"So we've noticed." Leon muttered.

The silence got even more strained over the next few moments. Merlin was the first to crack.

 _Oh, no, Merlin, don't you dare start laughing…_ A completely useless order; he started giggling hysterically a few seconds later.

Well, it was either laugh or kill someone, and given the circumstances, the former was preferable.

Unsurprisingly, Gwaine started laughing next. Then Aldwyn, then Elyan. Even Leon let out a bemused chuckle, shaking his head. Arthur held out the longest, but finally broke down as well.

 _Maybe it's finally happened. We're all going insane._

* * *

The laughter clearly startled the guards at the end of the passage; they turned and gave the prisoners such bewildered looks that it was genuinely funny, which of course kept the captives laughing even longer. When the noise died away suddenly and harshly, Arthur was first to speak. "You're banished from Camelot, Sir…no, wait, what _am_ I supposed to call you, Gwaine?"

"Well, 'Lord Gwaine' would do just fine." Gwaine stifled a snort. _Been a long time since I've heard those two words strung together…_

"Whatever. You're banished." Arthur also sat down with a grunt.

"That's just fine by me, since I have finally given in and decided to hate you."

Arthur shook his head. "I always knew you were hiding something behind that drunken grin."

"Oh, dear God, Gwaine, you passed as a drunkard?" Aldwyn sighed heavily and slumped down on the stone floor. "This whole business is going to be just wonderful to explain to Father. Which is why you're the one who will be doing the storytelling, Gwaine."

"Hey, I _was_ a drunkard, and a very good one at that! And _I'm_ not telling Uncle Harlan that I became a knight of Camelot. He'll eat me alive!"

"Good, just so long as it's not me."

"Yeah, but you're his heir, aren't you?" Elyan pointed out suddenly, though Gwaine thought he spotted the dark-skinned knight grinning.

"I am, but he's got four other children, remember."

Arthur let out a heavy sigh. "All right, everyone, let's stop discussing succession and think of a way to get out of here so you can discuss it further if you so choose."

"Sounds fine by me." Aldwyn responded in a sarcastic tone.

Merlin let out another amused chuckle, earning a "Shut up, Merlin!" from Arthur. With that, the prisoners lapsed into silence only broken by the muffled sounds of voices and weapons clanking from the end of the passageway.

Gwaine found it hard to think of an escape plan while his thoughts kept becoming occupied with the limp figure in his arms. She was so pale and weak. The very sight of her injuries pained him to the degree where he almost felt every whiplash and bruise on his own skin.

He'd never seen his sister this dazed and helpless; more often than not he'd been the one in that position and his sister had been his rescuer. Like the time he'd broken his arm racing through the apple trees. But now…now he was the strong one. He just wasn't used to it. While roaming around the countryside, he'd run more often than fought. In Camelot, he'd always been with the others, with his friends.

And then it hit him. _You're banished from Camelot. You're no longer a knight._

Funnily enough, he'd more or less already made up his mind to leave the knights and go home. It had been occurring to him slowly but steadily as of late; he had to go home. He'd expected to feel loss at leaving the knighthood, at leaving his life in Camelot. But right now, he didn't feel that at all.

He felt…liberated.

 _At least it's all in the open, now. Well, almost all of it. Enough, least-ways._

Of course, now there was the question of "Is this going to cause a war or not?". Unlikely; Arthur didn't seem to want to come to Bernicia and Aldwyn certainly had no strategic interest in Camelot, and besides Harlan wouldn't sanction war without a bloody good reason. Or, at least, Gwaine didn't think he would…

 _Father would tell him not to make it a bigger issue._

That made Gwaine feel better and worse at the same time.

 _Father's still alive. If…when we get out of here, I'm going to see him again. Alive._

But, according to Aldwyn, he wasn't the powerful warrior Gwaine had known.

 _That's my fault. I'm going to have to say sorry. For what I did then, and now…what happened to Elen…I should've gone with her…_

Then maybe she wouldn't be unconscious on his lap right now. Maybe she wouldn't be dying.

 _She can't die. I won't let her._

Which brought up another pressing question. _If we do escape, if we have to fight our way out of here, how do I protect Elen?_ He couldn't assume that Arthur or Elyan or Leon would. Merlin, maybe, but under pressure the manservant would probably pick his master. Gwaine wouldn't blame him in the slightest for that.

 _Aldwyn will have my back, of course. But there's only so much one man can do…_

Perhaps, if they were very, very lucky, someone would rescue them.

 _Hopefully before Haig decides exactly how he wants to kill us all._

Gwaine's thoughts continued to spin around and around long after the thin streams of sunlight filtering through the cracks in the dungeon walls faded into darkness.

* * *

It was getting late, and Hayden was routinely checking his wyverns over before going to bed.

 _Old Sapphire and Ruby are in the shed…Obsidian and Citrine are in their enclosure together…weirdly affectionate with each other, those two, even for mates…Ah, there's Obsidian's little brother Diamond in the corner…Emerald's a little apart, as usual…then Amethyst and Peridot are tangled up together…where's Topaz? Ah-ha, there he is, on the other side of his mother…_

Routine over, Hayden stifled a yawn as he turned towards his cottage. It was really more like three cottages built together on a small rise so that it resembled an anthill. _My grandfather had no aesthetic taste, apparently…_ Hayden laughed over that, not for the first time.

A loud snort from behind him alerted him first. He spun around; he'd recognized Obsidian's particular vocal tone, and he trusted Obsidian's senses. Sure enough, he began to hear hoof beats only seconds later, approaching fast.

When he could make out the rapidly-slowing shadowy figure approaching in the twilight, he backed up against the wyvern pen and called, "Who's there?" Silently, he added, _A couple whistles and my wyverns will tear you to pieces._

" _Hayden!_ " the figure shouted as his horse thundered to a to a stop a few feet away.

The young man relaxed immediately. "Ryle! What are you doing here?"

His distant relative swung off his horse and stumbled towards him. "I need your help."

"Why? Are you injured?" Automatically, Hayden stepped forward and gripped Ryle's shoulders. The older man didn't _look_ injured, but he did appear to be exhausted.

"No, no, I'm fine…" Ryle dragged his hand through his tousled hair. "There was a skirmish…Some warlord named Haig has Elen Barclayn…and Prince Aldwyn _and_ Gwaine…yes, Prince Goddard's son Gwaine… _and_ Arthur Pendragon…it's a long story…I think the twins got away with Cleva, but I'm not sure…they'll be killed, the lot of them if we don't rescue them, it's too far to the city so I thought of you…"

Ryle ran out of breath there and stopped, gasping. It was just as well as it took Hayden a couple minutes to work past "Arthur Pendragon". "Wait, so this 'Haig' has captured three Barclayns plus a Pendragon…How the hell did _that_ happen?"

"As I said, it's a long story." Ryle choked out. "I'll explain on the way…You've taken your wyverns hunting. Can they attack people?"

"They'll attack anyone I tell them to." Hayden replied involuntarily. "But…Gwaine Barclayn? So you did see him further south?"

"Oh, for God's sakes, there's no _time_!" Ryle yelled. "They'll kill her…I mean, them…" He trailed off, spluttering.

Hayden stared at the uncharacteristically anxious man before him and suddenly understood. _They'll kill her…_ "We'll rescue them." he assured Ryle. "The wyverns are resting, but I can get them up easily enough. Your mount looks spent, so we can borrow some horses in the village down the valley…they know me, they'll be glad to help." He stopped, momentarily distracted by the Emerald's hot breath as the wyvern approached and breathed over the fence onto his neck.

Ryle eyed the beast warily. "Can you really get them up and ready to fight?"

"They're wyverns, Ryle, not soldiers. But yes, they can fight. As for getting them to wake up…raw fish does wonders."

* * *

Ela usually didn't stay up late reading, but she'd found a fascinating tome on rare medicinal herbs and the time slipped by her. In fact, she didn't even recognize how late it had become until she heard her husband cry out.

Dropping her book and racing to the bedchamber, she found Goddard sitting up in bed, hair and nightshirt alike drenched in sweat. "Pain or nightmares?" she asked as his dark eyes met her sky-blue ones. Physical pain was easy for her to deal with; she was a healer, after all. Nightmares…not always.

"A little of both." Goddard sighed and flopped back on the pillows. "Nothing I can't handle, my love."

With a nod, Ela began to get ready for bed. She was still concerned, but no more than usual until Goddard said suddenly, "Ela, remember when I used to joke about your 'mother's intuition'?"

That made her smile a bit, though she wondered concernedly where he was going with this line of inquiry. "It annoyed me to no end, as I recall. Especially since I was usually right."

"True enough. What is it telling you now?"

Ela stopped in the middle of combing her long hair and turned to stare at her husband. He wasn't joking, not in the slightest. So she complied and searched her instincts.

Her stomach clenched a little as she admitted, "I'm worried for them. I feel as if they're in danger. But…I can't tell...it could just be that they're far away. Separation causes worry." She finished brushing her hair and got into bed.

As her husband wrapped his arms around her and she nestled into him, she murmured, "Goddard?"

"Yes, dear?"

"I want them back. Both of them. I want them both with me. Elen is always running off these days, and Gwaine…" She stopped there. It hurt. Badly. _Ten years and it hasn't changed._

Goddard's arms tightened around her. "I miss him too, love." he whispered into her hair. "I miss him too."

* * *

 **I honestly don't know where that last bit came from. But I liked it so I left it in.**

 **I'm so happy that lots of you like the wyverns! I really wasn't sure about putting them in this story at first...but I'm glad I did. I promise you'll see a lot more of them in the next chapter or two!**

 **To those of you who live in the US...Happy Fourth of July! (thirty-five minutes early :D) To the rest of you...have a great day/night!**


	24. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

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 **Hi, everyone!**

 **Well, I wanted to upload yesterday, but had a minor case of writer's block, so...**

 **This chapter isn't my favorite; it kind of jumps all over the place and parts of it were painfully hard to write. To be perfectly honest, the first section was the easiest to write, despite Aldwyn's rather insane speech (you'll see when you read it). I didn't actually plan for it to happen; it just did.**

 **Am I rambling? I think so. Sorry!**

 **Disclaimer: I think I've been forgetting these. I have, right? Anyway, I don't own Merlin.**

* * *

"Gwaine, are you awake?"

"Yeah." Gwaine shifted uncomfortably on the stone floor, readjusting his sister's weight in his lap. He didn't feel tired at all. "Why?"

"Is everyone else asleep?"

"How would I know that? It's pitch black in here."

"Fine." Pause. "Gwaine?"

"Yes, Aldwyn?" For it was his cousin speaking.

"Did you mean what you said to Arthur?"

"Which bit?"

"Well…all of it, I suppose."

Gwaine hesitated. _I'm such a hypocrite._ Only a few days ago, it seemed, he'd been defending Arthur Pendragon vehemently. _Nothing like his father…doesn't pursue those with magic…_ But were those lies, in reality? Had Gwaine himself been blinded by his friendship with Arthur and Merlin? Yes, he had to admit that Arthur had been his friend, though it took longer for Gwaine to consider him thus than he had with Merlin. He had wanted to find, and _had_ found, true honor in the young Pendragon. But now…

 _I'm not saying your family is evil, Gwaine, but magic…_

Magic. That bloody excuse again. _But there is no excuse for what he said. He's made his mind up, and so have I._ "Yes," he said firmly, "I meant all of it."

He clearly heard Aldwyn let out a relieved sigh. "So…you're banished. From Camelot."

"Yes, I am. But I've been banished before." Realizing what that sounded like, he quickly explained, "From multiple taverns, cousin."

Aldwyn let out a brief chuckle. "Let me guess; you in a tavern brawl. Make that several tavern brawls. Oddly enough, I can imagine that only too well."

" _Imagine_ it? Ah, so that fistfight that broke out in the tavern the first time we got drunk on Midsummer's Eve was _not_ a 'tavern brawl'?"

" _You_ were not part of that, Gwaine, I was."

"I was there!"

"Yes, throwing your guts up in a corner. And you were hardly drunk; you'd only had three pints! Four at most!"

"I was barely thirteen, Aldwyn! I hadn't built up a tolerance for alcohol yet. And I still think that someone laced it with something."

"Oh, 'someone with something'; _very_ specific, cousin. Anyhow, _I_ was the one who ended up with a bloody nose, two black eyes, and a broken finger. _You_ went scurrying home as soon as you saw the fight start."

"Didn't get very far before passing out, as I recall. But didn't your father keep you confined to your chambers for two weeks?"

He could almost see Aldwyn's grimace. "Three weeks. For someone who gets drunk at feasts all the time, Father's terribly strict about that sort of thing. Maybe it was the fact that I was only fifteen…or the fact that I got drunk 'in public'…But it was _your_ father I was terrified of. You should've heard his scolding."

Gwaine frowned. "When did he scold you for that incident?"

"The next morning. I felt terrible."

"Why? Don't tell me that he threw something at you." _Of course not, Father never does that. It's Uncle Harlan who throws things. And Aunt Gerarda._

It took a moment for Aldwyn to answer. "No, he never even raised his voice. He wasn't even all that angry because I went to the tavern; it was the fact that I'd taken you with me that bothered him. I don't know if you can remember it all that well, but you were really sick afterwards. Uncle Goddard…he's has always had a knack for making a person feel guilty. If they deserve it."

 _How much do you want to bet that he_ won't _try making me feel guilty for what I did?_

Aldwyn seemed to realize what he was thinking. "Don't tell me you're berating yourself about the accident again, Gwaine."

Gwaine's guilt switched to anger in an instant. "Is that what you called it at home after I left? The 'accident'?"

He really wished he could see his cousin's face right now; Aldwyn's expression might have prepared him for the almost violent tone that he heard in the next words.

"Damn it, Gwaine, do you have _any_ idea what it was like after you left? Your parents were distraught; I didn't see Uncle Goddard smile for years and your mother…she was simply all-around terrifying. Father kept smashing things and yelling at random people, Mother kept dissolving into tears at random intervals, Haralda spent hours every day tearing practice dummies to bits with an ax, your sister wouldn't talk to anyone except your parents for about a year, and the twins…they didn't understand what happened, you know, and they kept asking where you were. And every time they did Great-Aunt Gytha would start crying and Mother would join her and Haralda would run off and Father would break something and they'd leave me to do the telling. I'd tell them some lie or other, but I think Everard always saw through it and eventually he told Elwin. Then they stopped asking, and as the years went by I thought they'd started to forget you. And I started to forget you…or thought I did…and it scared me. And I couldn't talk to Father about you or he'd get angry. Mother would get sad. Gytha…sometimes I could, sometimes I couldn't. Haralda and Elen…they wouldn't even say your name. So in between smacking the twins into shape, I would tell them stories about you. They were the only people in our family who really didn't know what you'd done…until a couple years ago Everard demanded that I tell him what happened so I did. Elwin was there too, and it was the first time I saw him cry since he was a baby…and the last time, until a few days ago when those bandits attacked…But no, Gwaine, we didn't talk about what happened, just about the aftermath. We worked through it in our own ways…then we started to adjust to not having you around…it's funny, how we didn't even think of how we'd miss you until you were gone…and then life just went on without you there. And I'm grateful for that, in a way…time did make it easier in some ways. But at the same time, I hated it. Still do. You're my cousin. You…you were my best friend. I knew that your motives for being my friend were completely selfless, given the fact that you had nothing to gain. You were _always_ there; my idiot, irresponsible, far-to-skillful-with-a-sword-for-his-own-good cousin. Then…you weren't."

The silence that followed Aldwyn's outburst lasted for a very long time. Gwaine wanted to respond, but felt the need to think about it first. Not entirely normal for him. Eventually, he said hesitantly, "Aldwyn…I'm sorry."

His cousin did not reply, so he continued, "I know it doesn't change what happened…nothing can. But I…I've been thinking…no, not exactly…what I mean to say is…I want to come home. Now that I know I'm not…not guilty of murder, like I thought I was…It's all I can think about. Home. For a long time…ever since I left…I'd thought I'd lost it forever." He took a deep breath. "Was I wrong, Aldwyn?"

His cousin's voice was incredibly soft. "Yes, you were. I…we want you back, Gwaine. No matter what happened…you still belong with us. With your family."

 _Home. Family. I've still got those things. Strange._ "Good." Gwaine replied steadily. "Because as soon as we get out of here, we're going home. After we find the twins, of course."

"If they don't run back home by themselves, that is."

* * *

 _While traveling with wyverns and horses, there are two ways to keep your horses from going insane: train them to stay calm while around the wyverns, or, if you don't have time for that, keep the wyverns far, far away._

Strangely contradictory, but it worked.

As Hayden and Ryle rode their borrowed mounts through the rolling hills and patches of woodlands, the wyverns, per Hayden's commands, flew a short distance behind and about a couple hundred feet up.

Hayden was well aware that it had taken longer that Ryle wanted to get going, but he'd had to recover his hidden store of fish, find some weapons for himself (as a precaution), and decide on which wyverns to bring with him. So, yes, it did take almost an hour (the fact that all of the wyverns wanted to come at first hadn't helped one bit. Bringing them all was out of the question, especially with Peridot and Topaz.).

In the end, he'd chosen Obsidian, Diamond, and Emerald. He hadn't wanted to bring Sapphire (fearing that he was too old), but the stubborn creature had followed him. So far it seemed like he was keeping up, so Hayden tried not to worry about it.

"How can they see us?" Ryle asked suddenly as they urged their mounts across a narrow stream. Dawn was approaching, but it was still very dark out despite the bright quarter moon in the sky. Hayden strongly suspected that Ryle, in the lead, was using magic to find his way back to 'Lord Haig's' castle. But, if so, that was his problem, not Hayden's.

"I think that wyverns can see better in the dark than we can, and even if they couldn't, they have excellent senses of smell and hearing. They could find us anywhere." Hayden glanced upward and behind him; he could just barely make out the shapes of his wyverns suspended against the starry sky.

"And you're sure that if we order those things to attack Haig's men they won't start attacking people indiscriminately later?"

"Ryle, I've told you a thousand times, my wyverns do not have a taste for human flesh. They'll attack people they see as enemies, but they won't start hunting people because of it."

"I'm just making sure. But they'll be hungry, I suppose…" Ryle seemed to be having more and more doubts about using wyverns as allies.

"Didn't I ever explain wyvern digestion to you? No? Well, wyverns are very efficient animals in the respect that they eat only what they need to. My wyverns, who don't overexert themselves often, don't actually eat all that much. After this, they'll probably be starved and I'll have to find them some wild pigs or deer. But their activity controls their diet rather extremely. It's how they can survive in places like the Perilous Lands where food is scarce."

"If you say so."

They lapsed into silence then, and Hayden recalled the rather confused tale that Ryle had told him a few hours earlier as they traveled.

 _So the twins were rescued by Arthur Pendragon…who wanted to escort them back to Bernicia even though they didn't tell him who they were…then they found out that Gwaine Barclayn was a Knight of Camelot…which sounds like a bizarre contradiction to me, but that aside…then Elen got herself captured by a crazy warlord, and Aldwyn, Cleva, and Ryle found the twins with the knights from Camelot, but they all stayed together…_

It was an mad situation, that much was certain. For some reason the part Hayden kept getting stuck on was _Sir Gwaine of Camelot._

 _A Barclayn becoming a knight of Camelot? It just doesn't make any sense…_ Especially since it was Gwaine. It was common knowledge that his mother, the Lady Ela, was a sorceress whose family had died in Camelot's Great Purge. But apparently Gwaine had changed his views on Pendragons…maybe. Or maybe it was all an accident?

 _Either way, he and the rest are in trouble. I just hope that Haig's men aren't used to fighting wyverns…_

Hayden doubted that they were. Not many people were used to fighting wyverns these days. Or even seeing them. Hayden never got tired of the expressions on strangers' faces when they saw him with one or more of his pets in close proximity.

A while later, just as dawn had begun to lighten the sky, they stopped to let the horses rest briefly. Hayden tethered his mount and moved away from fidgety Ryle, far enough so that he could call his circling wyverns down.

They landed and promptly began to vie for his attention, which just made him laugh. "Diamond, stop trying to eat my hair…Sapphire, there's no need to try to step on Emerald just because he's a little smaller than you…" He made sure that he petted and examined each one in turn; they all seemed to be holding up just fine.

"How do you tell them apart?" Hayden glanced over at Ryle, who watching him with raised eyebrows.

"Oh, come on, Ryle, you've watched them for me before. Can't you tell them apart? Ouch! Obsidian!" The large wyvern had given him a nudge on the shoulder that was a bit too forceful.

"The females have horns roughly half the size of the males' horns. And sometimes their overall size varies. That's all I know; I just feed the brutes when you're not around."

"It's easy once you get to know them really well." Hayden informed him as he scratched Sapphire on the crown of his head. "Take this lot, for example. Obsidian has unusually dark scales. Sapphire has crooked horns, as you can see, plus some of his scales are turning light grey since he's getting old. Diamond has an oddly narrow head, and his eyes are longer and narrower that most. Then Emerald has a greenish sheen to the scales on his sides and his wings…honestly, Ryle, I could go on an on." He refrained from adding that to him, the wyverns' faces were individually as distinct as any human's; that would just make Ryle declare him insane.

True to form, Ryle simply snorted derisively. "Whatever you say, Hayden. Let's start moving again."

* * *

Merlin was no stranger to sleeping on hard stone floors, but waking up on them was never a comfortable experience. "Ow…" he moaned as he slowly sat up and looked around.

Another set of cracks in the dungeon wall let in enough bright morning light so that the warlock could clearly see his companions in the cells around him. Elyan was still asleep, Leon was stretching and wincing due to his bruised ribs, while Arthur was sitting silently, watching the guards at the distant end of the passage. Looking over at the other two occupied cells, Merlin saw that Aldwyn was apparently still asleep while Gwaine was talking to his clearly still-unconscious sister. His words were so soft that Merlin couldn't understand them, but he decided not to try anyway. Whatever Gwaine was trying to tell his sister, it was none of Merlin's business.

"Good morning, everyone." he said dryly as he rubbed his aching neck. "Any great ideas about getting us out of here?"

"Good morning, Merlin, and no, not so far." Elyan grimaced as his back cracked loudly. "Sorry, but this is probably the most uncomfortable cell I've ever been in, and that's saying something."

"For all of us." Leon added.

Merlin turned to his cellmate. "How're the ribs?"

"No worse, thank God. Still not terribly comfortable, though."

Merlin winced in sympathy before glancing at Arthur. _Maybe he has a plan…he usually does, though he always needs me to pull it off, strangely enough…_

The warlock was just about to make a smart-mouth comment to snap Arthur out of his current brooding state when six guards detached themselves from the group at the end of the passage and approached the cells.

Merlin's gaze flew to Gwaine, who had also noticed the guards. "Aldwyn, wake up!" he hissed.

The prince was awake in an instant. "What? Where…" He stopped suddenly as the guards reached the cells. One began to unlock the doors of the two cells containing Barclayns.

"Where are you taking them?" Arthur demanded loudly as he lunged to his feet. The others did the same, though they were all feeling rather helpless as the guards seized Gwaine and Aldwyn.

Predictably, the guards didn't answer as they dragged the protesting and struggling men out of the cells. Another picked up Elen and slung her over his shoulder.

Moments later, they were out of sight, and Merlin found himself wondering if they'd ever see Gwaine, Aldwyn, and Elen alive again. Elyan and Leon seemed to be having similar thoughts.

 _Even Arthur looks worried._

"We need to get out of here." Merlin said without thinking.

None of the others had an answer for that. Though they most certainly agreed with him.

* * *

Cleva could hear the voices in the clearing ahead as she let Percival, Everard, and Elwin take the lead. Even Elwin had far greater skill with a blade than she did.

After the skirmish with the mercenaries the previous morning, Cleva had soon managed to find Everard, who had been working himself into a near-frenzy because he couldn't find his brother). They had located Elwin later that day, who, as it turned out, had been hiding in a small cave with Sir Percival since shortly the battle. According to the knight, he'd seen the others captured, though he was unsure as to the fate of Ryle. Cleva had no doubt in her mind that Ryle had escaped easily enough, but there was still the question of what would happen to the others. Rescuing them seemed impossible.

Not wanting to rush into anything and being rather lost as it was (Cleva felt like she'd been going in circles all day), they'd stayed the night at the cave. When dawn came, they set out towards where their friends were being held captive (Percival had seen the castle where the mercenaries had taken the others, but hadn't gotten too close).

And then, around midmorning, they had heard the unidentified voices.

Everard and Percival had immediately drawn their weapons, with Cleva and Elwin soon following their lead. Slowly, they began to approach the break in the trees where the voices were emanating from.

 _It sounds like two people, maybe three…we could probably handle that, but…wait, what is that hissing noise?_

Ahead of her, Percival motioned for them to stop before moving forward a couple paces and peering around a tree trunk. What he saw clearly startled him, for he paled slightly and quickly drew back towards the other three. Before he could say anything, however, one of the voices in the clearing rose to a near shout.

"Damn it, Hayden, what is the matter with your…creature? That's the third time it's started hissing in the last five minutes! _I_ haven't done anything!"

 _It's Ryle! And Hayden Wyverndomitor! And his wyverns…oh dear, no wonder Sir Percival's nervous._ Raising her own voice, Cleva called out, "Ryle! Hayden!"

"I wouldn't do that m'lady!" Percival hissed with uncharacteristic agitation.

"It's all right." Cleva tried to reassure him, but Elwin had already taken matters into his own hands. Sheathing his sword, he took off running into the clearing with Everard in pursuit. "Drat it, they'll scare the beasts." she muttered before hurrying after them. She heard Percival following her, presumably still with his sword drawn. _That won't make a great impression, either._

In the clearing, Ryle and Hayden were standing a few feet apart, formerly in the middle of arguing, though now they were just staring at the newcomers. Behind Hayden, no less than four fully-grown wyverns were standing, eyeing the new arrivals suspiciously and making threatening noises. Elwin and Everard stopped quickly at the sight of them, obviously recalling how volatile the scaly creatures tended to be.

"Oh, so there you lot are." Ryle spoke first.

Something about his tone irritated Cleva extremely, but before she could make a retort Hayden ordered Percival to put down his weapon. "Look, I don't know who you are, but you need to put your sword away. You're aggravating my wyverns."

Percival obeyed almost automatically, but asked blankly, " _Your_ wyverns?" Turning to Cleva, the hulking knight demanded, "Who exactly is this and why is he with Ryle?"

Not wanting to waste precious time on detailed explanation, Cleva said quickly, "He's a...a friend of Ryle's." _Wait, aren't they related? I don't remember._ "He tames wyverns." Noting the completely befuddled expression on Percival's face, she added lamely, "It's a family thing. I think. Ryle, why is Hayden here?"

"I asked him for his help." Ryle growled. "I'd thought that would be obvious."

"Help?" Everard interjected.

"Yes. I followed our adversaries closely and discovered that they work for the warlord Haig. Knowing that even if I found you we couldn't rescue the others. I…we needed help so I thought of Hayden. He was closest."

"Who is Haig?" Elwin questioned.

"And what does he want with us and our friends?" Everard added.

 _Friends? Does he mean Merlin and the others from Camelot? Well, maybe…_

Ryle looked annoyed at the questions. "He's some exiled noble or other, I believe; I'm not really sure what the entirety of his motivations are. But I do know that he will kill all of his prisoners if we don't rescue them. _Soon_."

The urgency in his voice was so apparent that Cleva felt rather startled. She'd never thought that Ryle had it in him to be so concerned for anyone or anything.

As she eyed the wyverns (all of whom looked only slightly calmer without the presence of drawn weapons), she asked the group at large. "Well, so what's the plan?"

Shortly after they decided on a decent strategy of attack (admittedly with some trouble) and had begun the short journey to Haig's castle, Cleva distincly heard Sir Percival mutter, " _Wyverns_.The others will never let me hear the end of this…but it's not like I have much of a choice…"

* * *

 **So...what did you think?**

 **If all goes as planned, the next chapter should be filled with battle action! With the wyverns, of course. :)**

 **Actually, speaking of wyverns: the thing about Hayden being able to tell them apart because their faces and features are as distinctive to him as any human's? That's actually happened to me...with my chickens. I used to have a flock of hens; a lot of them were the same color, but I could tell them all apart by their individual facial features. I'm not kidding; I was the only person who could tell them apart just by looking. That gave me and idea to elaborate on with Hayden and his wyverns. Though, admittedly, my hens weren't quite as exciting as a herd of wyverns... ;)**

 **I'll try to update soon, but I might be busy tomorrow. I just got my driver's license and tomorrow I get to drive to town by myself for the first time! I'm actually really excited (and nervous).**

 **Have a great day/night!**


	25. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

* * *

 **Hey, everybody!**

 **Sorry I'm late! The computer crashed yesterday...we didn't lose anything, thankfully...and I was super tired, so I didn't get writing as soon as I would've liked.**

 **I think this is the longest chapter I've ever written. It begins slow but doesn't stay that way for long. I hope it lives up to expectations! If not...well, I tried!**

 **Okay, I'll stop talking now, but there is a super important AN at the end of the chapter...so please read that! (But not before you read the chapter itself)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or anything related.**

* * *

Like so many other things in life, it just wasn't fair.

 _"It's a shame that, the last time we saw each other, we parted on rather bad terms. I wished for days afterwards that I'd said something more noteworthy than 'get the hell out of here'.We met so unexpectedly, we didn't have time to talk…it's just not fair. It all could have been over so quickly…if we'd spoken, just for a little while…about what happened ten years ago, about Father…maybe we could have parted amiably. Maybe we could've gotten the twins out of the city, gone home together. Things would be different. We might even be home by now…safe. Far away from here._

 _"When I saw you in Haig's throne room, I felt so awful, not just because what he'd done to you, but because I should've prevented it. I don't know why exactly I feel responsible for you all of a sudden; it's always been the other way around, hasn't it? Like when you used to call me a 'young, irresponsible idiot'. And then I'd call you an 'ugly old toad'. Even though we're really the same age…okay, fifteen minutes apart…Just a joke, but we took it rather seriously back then, didn't we? We were so young…and siblings never seem to get along perfectly…not even Everard and Elwin._

 _"We never got along half so well as they do, did we? You were always with Mother and her friends, learning about herbs and magic spells while I learning from Father or tagged along with Aldwyn and Haralda. When we were little though…remember when we always seemed to have the same dreams? And then it just stopped…I used to know exactly what you were feeling, but that changed so long ago that I don't think I remember what that even felt like…Thought at times I miss it…You know, I knew when you were in trouble, when you were captured and being harmed, but it wasn't…I did nothing. Now I feel so useless, and hopeless. Because…okay, I'll admit it, I'm frightened. That would probably make you laugh. Just a little. Because you're you._

 _"But I'm in earnest here, Elen. I…Despite everything... after all this, I don't want to lose you. I don't want to lose my big sister."_

As he, Aldwyn, and Elen were hauled up to see Lord Haig again, Gwaine reflected that he honestly wasn't sure why he'd said those things (and others of a similar nature), or even if he'd actually spoken only a few or all of them aloud. He only knew that at some point during the agonizingly long night, he'd started thinking about talking to his sister...and seemingly had begun to.

Gently holding her close to him with one arm and grasping her hand, he allowed himself broken whispers of thoughts that, under any other circumstances, would never have been possible for him to reveal. Not to his sister. It just wasn't who they were. But he dared to now, even though he wasn't entirely certain if she could hear him. He rather thought not.

Because Elen was dying. They had enough of a mental connection left for Gwaine to feel the life slowly ebbing away, as it doubtless had been for days now. It felt to him both like a gradually draining pool of water and a caged butterfly fluttering desperately until its wing beats weakened to nothing.

For once, Gwaine could see no escape whatsoever, other than death; for all of them. There were too few allies, too many enemies, no tricks or escape routes. Unless some miracle occurred, they'd all be dead very soon.

Somehow, the knowledge didn't simply frighten Gwaine. Yes, he was scared, but more than that, he was sad. He felt a strange sense of deep melancholy as everything in his life, and Aldwyn's life, and Elen's, seemed to spiral to this one point in time in this one filthy castle.

It all seemed so futile. Like nothing any of them had ever done had ever meant anything or would ever mean anything save for boundless pain at the expense of their family, all to satisfy the petty revenge of one forgotten man.

 _It's not fair. And, like so much else, doesn't have much meaning ultimately._

This train of thought led Gwaine to such a place so that when the three Barclayn's were deposited at the feet of Lord Haig, all he could think was _Will his revenge upon our family feel empty, in the end?_

At the moment, Haig didn't seem to think so. "Well, well, here they are again, the filthy Barclayn brats."

"I think you need to work on your insults, Haig." Aldwyn remarked icily. He and Gwaine were on their knees before their captor, but Elen once again was lying prone on the floor.

Gwaine really wished that his head was clearer; no sleep or food for a very long time wasn't exactly helpful to one's mental abilities. Dredging up what he could of his characteristic gallows humor, he commented, "So, My Lord, have you decided which delicious way you wish to slaughter us? I once knew this fellow who liked to…"

Haig signaled to one of the guards behind Gwaine, so the young man didn't see the blow coming. It sent him sprawling from his knees to the floor, stars dancing wildly in his vision. He then registered a throbbing pain at the back of his skull. "Ouch." he groaned before he was roughly pulled upright once more.

"I will have none of your smart mouth in here, Lord Gwaine." Haig sneered. "You'll have plenty of time to use that when you've lost a couple limbs."

"Ah, dismemberment. How barbaric." Aldwyn cut in.

Haig turned to the prince and growled, "I intend to flay you alive, Barclayn, until you cannot feel anything but the pain. But first, you're going to watch both of your cousins die. Very _slowly_." Without further words, he turned and motioned to one of the dozen or so men in the throne room. The rather short, weedy-statured soldier stepped forward wielding a relatively small but wickedly sharp axe. Haig looked, if possible, even more delighted than before. "Let's see, Raf, we should start wi…"

Outside, male voices could suddenly be heard shouting along with the sound of weapons being drawn. Then, something large and black smacked into the outside of one of the open windows on the left wall of the room and rebounded off with a hissing shriek. "What in the devil's name was that!" bellowed Haig as he stumbled back and tripped over his fur cloak.

Gwaine and Aldwyn glanced at each other, clearly thinking the same thing.

 _Hayden._

* * *

The first sign of commotion down in the dungeons came in the form of a rather young guard flying down the steps at the end of the passage, screaming about monsters.

The prisoners in the cells watched the other guards trying to calm their companion down with raised eyebrows. "Not very brave, is he?" commented Elyan wryly.

Merlin grinned in response, but Leon and Arthur remained sober as they watched the guards arguing. A few words drifted to their ears… _"That's absurd…What do you mean…Lord Haig ordered who…outside…attack… snakes with_ wings _?"_

The argument lasted until one guard looked up the stairs and shouted, drawing his sword, "Halt!" The others stopped talking and reached for their weapons as well.

" ** _Flíeh!_** " a masculine voice screamed from the stairwell.

The guards promptly went flying in all directions.

Recoiling, Arthur shouted, "What the _hell_?"

"Magic!" Leon yelped, though it was rather obvious.

 _Magic…but who…_

The Ryle stormed down the last few stairs into the dungeons with Sir Percival right behind him.

One cursory glance around the dungeon and the dark-haired rouge shouted, " _Where the blasted bloody hell are the Barclayns?!_ "

"You're a sorcerer!" Arthur yelled back.

Percival, wisely staying silent, quickly located a bunch of keys and hurried to open the cell doors. Elyan, Leon, and Merlin quietly thanked him and moved out quickly, but Arthur stayed right where he was, gaping at an increasingly frustrated Ryle. "You have magic!"

"So what if I do? It's not like you liked me anyway! Now where are the Barclayns?"

Arthur spluttered something along the lines of "Does no one tell me _anything_?", then, seeming to realize that his cell door was open, strode out. "Get the guards' weapons." he ordered his knights, now ignoring Ryle. "Thank you, Percival, for coming back for us."

"Of course, Sire." Percival bobbed his head slightly. The king and his knights then hurried to arm themselves for the imminent battle ahead.

"Guards took them." Merlin answered Ryle's question, as no one else seemed inclined to do so. "To see Lord Haig, I think."

With a wordless snarl, Ryle turned and bolted past the knights, back up the staircase.

Merlin stared after him for a long moment. _He's a sorcerer? I should've known._

More pressingly, he wondered exactly how Ryle and Percival had gotten in to the castle in the first place.

 _Snakes with wings, maybe?_

* * *

Lord Haig forgot about dismembering people for the time being as he began shouting orders at his soldiers. Most of them were sent out to investigate the source of the commotion ("And find that bloody black thing!"). Four men, including the axe-bearing Raf, remained in the room to guard the prisoners, all growing visibly more nervous and agitated with every yell, metallic clang, and bestial shriek. Grabbing a wine flask, Haig sat himself heavily on his throne and grumbled angrily under his breath.

Kneeling was just getting excruciatingly uncomfortable for Gwaine (and doubtless Aldwyn too) when they heard someone give a shout right outside the throne room's main door.

Startled, Gwaine twisted around so he could look in the direction of the door just before the weathered wood shattered and crumbled to the floor in a cloud of dust.

In strode Ryle, eyes blazing.

Haig let out a shout and leapt off his throne. "Kill him!"

Straight away, the guards drew their weapons and started forward.

" ** _Swilte!_** " Two were thrown backwards onto the ground, dead. Ryle gave a maniacal laugh. "" ** _Onbaerne._** " Another man caught on fire. He also collapsed to the floor, screaming.

Raf dropped his axe and ducked behind Haig's throne, which had been very recently vacated. The warlord escaped through a side door in the wall, narrowly avoiding a ball of fire which Ryle sent his way.

Before the sorcerer could begin pursuit, Aldwyn snapped, "Oi, Ryle, untie us!"

Ryle's gaze landed on them, and on Elen. And Gwaine saw something extremely painful flash through the older man's eyes. But he quickly unbound their hands and helped them to their feet. "Was that… _creature_ Lord Haig?"

 _Now how does he know that?_ Gwaine decided that he really didn't want to know. "Yeah, that was him." As he knelt to check on Elen (no change), his nose wrinkling involuntarily at the stench of burning flesh; the still-flaming remains of the guard.

Aldwyn noticed it too as he took swords from the other two guards' bodies. "Can you put that out, Ryle? Now, where is…damn! How the hell did that scrawny axe-bearing bastard get out of here?" Raf had apparently disappeared.

Ryle mostly ignored the prince as he knelt next to Elen, across from Gwaine, but did extinguish the flames on the corpse with a wave of his hand. However, the stench remained. "How is she?" he asked quietly; strangely quietly.

Gwaine narrowed his eyes as he looked at the other man, but had no time to even respond to his question before Aldwyn was next to him. "I got you a weapon, now let's get the hell out of here."

* * *

 _How many times have we done this?_ Merlin wondered. _How many times have we found ourselves running wildly along dark hallways, pursued by armed opponents?_

It was certainly much like those other times.

They got lost rather quickly and ended up following Arthur around random corners and up and down narrow, crumbling staircases. The king behaved like he knew where he was going; Merlin suspected an act. Oh, well, they'd probably get out at some point…

They came across a intersection of two passageways and were instantly surrounded by adversaries. Arthur began sparring with three at once, Elyan and Leon worked together to bring down several, while Percival simply began throwing his opponents against the walls. Merlin tried to stay out of the way, perhaps surreptitiously tripping a couple enemies with magic.

But when more soldiers flooded the passageway and the group from Camelot took off running, Merlin found himself fleeing from at least a half a dozen armed men alone.

 _Oh, great. Well, at least I can use magic now._

He soon dealt with the men chasing him. But he was still lost.

* * *

Gwaine hurried after Aldwyn down the dimly lit staircase, slowed by the weight of his sister, who was slung across his left shoulder. "See anyone?" he whispered as his cousin skidded to a halt at the bottom of the stairs.

"Nothing. Let's hope our luck holds." Aldwyn glanced back at Gwaine, then frowned. "Where's Ryle?"

"Uh…said he was going after Haig. Since we're too busy getting Elen to safety."

Aldwyn grunted and began hurrying down the next passage. Gwaine followed.

 _"Aren't you coming with us?"_

 _"I'll go after 'Lord Haig'."_

 _"Oh, I was hoping to come back later and fillet him myself…"_

 _"I'll make sure he gets what he deserves. Take care of her."_

Gwaine felt almost glad that Aldwyn had missed that little exchange while scouting for enemies. He was still trying to understand it himself.

* * *

 _Haig's men are idiots._

Honestly, they acted like they'd never seen a wyvern before! Okay, maybe they hadn't. But some of their screams were really quite pathetic.

Still, most of them put up a fight. Though it wasn't enough.

Ordering the wyverns to attack had been easy. Hayden had led them to a hill near the castle, pointed at some of the guards outside it, and let out the two shrill, high-pitched whistles that meant "attack". He usually used it on hunting trips.

The wyverns hesitated only momentarily. When the soldiers actually started brandishing weapons…well, it was pretty simple from there. Wyverns didn't really appreciate having sharp, pointed objects waved at them.

Sapphire and Emerald were more than a match for the men at the gate, while Obsidian and Diamond soon began picking off the ones that were farther along the wall and the others which fled. Hayden had been momentarily concerned when Obsidian had dodged a spear and had gone crashing into a wall, but the animal simply shook it off and chased down another soldier.

Hayden had been, initially, worried about bringing his (admittedly lethal) pets to a battle.

 _Doesn't look like I really had anything to worry about._

* * *

Merlin had found a way out; a tiny side door near what looked like the remains of the castle kitchens. Exiting, he found himself in a thorn-ridden thicket. To avoid being shredded, he ran beside the castle wall, heading towards the muffled sounds of battle. _I've got to find Arthur and the others…_

He came around to a more open space in clear sight of the castle gates at stopped dead.

 _I sort of suspected…but…wow._

No less than four fully-grown wyverns were attacking Lord Haig's men. And winning.

The largest wyvern kept his aim high, swooping down and disabling the men that were on the wall above the gate. Another wyvern concentrated on the men below, while two more circled, attacking those who tried to flee. As Merlin watched, the largest creature seized two soldiers at once and swung them heavily off of the wall before regaining its balance and sinking his teeth into third. The wyvern down below simply tucked in its wings and plowed into a row of five men, knocking them flat with what sounded like an elated shriek. A couple men escaped that and fled yelling in terror, only to be felled one at a time by the claws and teeth of the smallest, most graceful wyvern.

Even though Merlin had previously seen an actual dragon in action, he couldn't help but be impressed.

 _Especially if someone who's not a Dragonlord is controlling them._

He watched in admiration as the fourth wyvern, almost black in color, swooped down and picked up a man who had been running towards the woods and threw him into the nearest tree.

The wyvern landed for a moment, regaining its stability. It shook itself, turned its head…and saw Merlin. Its reddish eyes narrowed and it let out a snarl.

 _Uh-oh._

Growling, the wyvern leapt into the air, staying low as it swooped toward Merlin. Its jaws opened wide, displaying rows of razor-sharp teeth.

And the warlock reacted without thinking. His mouth opened and a torrent of fiery words spilled out, asking…no commanding…the wyvern to stop.

Naturally, it did. Slowing its approach, the beast landed before Merlin and quickly bowed its head.

Merlin let out a sigh of relief. _Okay, Merlin, the wyvern's not attacking now, it's all good…_

Abruptly. the wyvern straightened up, surprising Merlin. A low-pitched, three-note whistle sounded from behind Merlin.

He turned quickly as the wyvern slipped past him, moving to stand next to a slender young man with short light-blond hair and very dark grey eyes, which were very wide in his pale face. As the wyvern approached him, he reached out seemingly automatically and stroked it under the jaw.

Merlin swallowed. "Uh…Hi." he stuttered. _I'm just glad it's not Arthur or Leon or…_

"You're a Dragonlord." the man said blankly.

"Um…yeah, but..." Merlin wasn't sure how to respond to that.

Suddenly, the other man's face broke into a smile. "I never thought I'd get to meet one." Stepping forward, he held out his hand. "Hayden."

Merlin grinned and shook Hayden's hand. "I'm Merlin."

"Nice to meet you. But…wait, Ryle mentioned you…Aren't you Arthur Pendragon's manservant?"

"Um, yeah." Merlin shrugged. "It's…he doesn't know."

"I'd hope not. Wouldn't make any sense." Hayden unexpectedly yelped as the wyvern nudged his shoulder. "Obsidian! Too hard!"

Merlin spoke after a moment, "Gwaine mentioned you."

"Oh, so you know Gwaine?" Hayden smiled a little. "He used to be a friend of mine."

"That's what he said." They simply stared at each other for a moment longer until they heard a shriek from above. Peering upward, they glimpsed the largest wyvern wheeling away from the castle wall, clearly in pain. On the wall, a solitary soldier began reloading a crossbow.

Merlin glanced back at Hayden fast enough to see the man's eyes harden. " _Damn_ him, if he's hurt Sapphire…" Looking to the blackish wyvern, Hayden pointed at the soldier and whistled twice, shrilly. While the creature leapt into the air, Hayden shouted, "Go get him, Obsidian!"

Seconds later, the man had fallen to his death off of the wall. The larger wyvern… _Sapphire_ , Merlin remembered…seemed to be managing flying still despite any injuries he had sustained. Hayden let out a relieved noise and turned back to Merlin. There was a moment of awkward silence before he said, "I need to get to Sapphire. I suppose you have somewhere to be?"

"I have to find Arthur." Merlin replied. Then he added, "When this is all over…I hope we get a chance to talk. I mean, I'd like to know how you get wyverns to respond to whistles."

"Agreed, but what for? You can just talk them into submission!" Hayden joked. With that, he began to run along the treeline, calling for his wyvern.

Merlin headed back towards the castle.

* * *

By the time Gwaine and Aldwyn found the front gate, the battle was over.

Aldwyn had taken Elen a few minutes previously, so Gwaine was the first to leave the gates, picking his way through numerous dead bodies. He was confronted by a very large, very agitated wyvern.

It… _no, it's a he, long horns, remember…_ promptly screeched at him and went to take his head off.

Then, Gwaine recognized him.

He wasn't sure whether it was the face or the greenish scales, but he was almost certain that he knew which one of Hayden's pets this was.

" _Emerald!_ " he shouted so loudly that his throat hurt.

The wyvern stopped dead and stared at him suspiciously. _Aw, hell, I forgot how unerving those red eyes get…at least he recognized his name…I think…_

The wyvern started moving again; creeping slowly. "Aldwyn, I'd stay back if I were you!" Gwaine called, not moving from where he stood.

"What is it?" he heard Aldwyn shuffling around, then, "Oh, lord. Yeah, I'll stay back here."

Gwaine forced himself to hold still as Emerald started sniffing him. After a few long moments, the beast relaxed its posture.

Gwaine heaved a sigh of relief and reached up to scratch the animal on the top of the head. _Emerald always liked that spot best._ He still seemed to.

"Is it safe?" he heard Aldwyn ask from behind him.

"Yeah, I think." Gwaine tried moving past the wyvern and through the castle gates; Emerald simply followed him with Aldwyn trailing behind as he carried Elen.

Outside of the gates, they found Cleva and the twins standing slightly apart from three other wyverns. And with the wyverns was…"Hayden?" Gwaine exclaimed.

The blond man turned quickly and let out a yelp. "Gwaine?"

Gwaine grinned and gestured to the wyvern behind him. "This belong to you?"

"Emerald, there you are! Some idiot shot Sapphire; he's not badly injured but I had to check him over…"

"Aldwyn! And… _Lady Elen_?" Cleva hurried to the prince, who carefully laid Elen on the ground. The twins followed her, but kept their distance. "What happened to her?"

"Some bastard named Haig happened. Former knight of Bernicia, apparently…to quote my dear cousin over there, he…'took honor a few steps to far'?"

Gwaine shrugged. His eyes found Cleva's, and they simply gazed at each other for a moment as Aldwyn continued, "He was looking for revenge."

"Revenge for what?" Everard quieried. "Ryle said something about it, but he couldn't tell us what it was all for…"

Gwaine suddenly felt very, very tired. "It doesn't matter." Ignoring the confused looks he was getting, he added, "Haig doesn't matter anymore. Without his mercenaries, he's nothing. Ryle's going to kill him, anyway."

Somehow he felt very sure of that.

* * *

Ryle didn't know what he felt when the spear went through his chest.

He'd felt pain before; the pain of severe injuries, even. But this…

He felt nothing. Except pleasure.

Because he could see his killer's face. And, in a moment, he became his own killer's killer.

" ** _Swilte._** " His eyes glowed gold; one final spell.

Ryle couldn't pretend that he knew what it had all been for; that he knew exactly which events had set into motion this pointless trail of revenge that ended here in this gloomy castle.

Nor could he pretend that he did not feel a harsh joy at the sight of Haig's terrified face as the warlord breathed his last.

In a way, Ryle could understand. His own path had been one of twisted loneliness and bitter regrets. He had spent so long not caring so as not to become like the man who fell before him now.

But that was over now.

 _Elen Barclayn will be safe. Her brother will see to it._

Funny; in the end, his love for someone he would have never had set him free.

As the pain finally struck him and he fell one last time, he felt the taste of bittersweet victory.

* * *

Merlin managed, with his usual bumbling skill, to slip past the still-battling wyvern at the gates and back into the castle. He hadn't gone too far before he almost collided with Arthur and Elyan (apparently Leon and Percival had taken off running in yet another direction). However, there had been no sign of enemy soldiers within the castle for several minutes, so Arthur felt confident enough to leave the building. "We'll assess the situation outside, regroup, and go back in to find Sir Leon and Sir Percival."

Once outside, the situation briefly took a turn for the worse.

"Wyverns!" yelled Arthur, raising his sword once more.

"Oh, for God's sake!" shouted Aldwyn. "They're on _our_ side! Why do you think all the soldiers are dead?"

The wyverns had already drawn their own conclusions and had started snarling and moving to attack.

It took several minutes and the combined efforts of Hayden and Gwaine to calm them down; during which Arthur and Aldwyn decided to swear pointlessly at each other in a very exhausted fashion.

And when everyone finally relaxed enough to talk civilly, the first person to speak was Elwin. "I suppose you have questions, Your Majesty?"

 _I'd say he's toying with Arthur a bit. Probably trying to relieve the tension._ Merlin wished that it would.

Things were certainly very tense. Cleva, the twins, and Aldwyn had taken up defensive positions around the limp form of Elen, while Hayden and Gwaine were still trying to keep the wyverns from doing anything unfortunate.

"Yes, I have questions, but…I'm not entirely sure I want to know the answers." Arthur eventually grumbled.

* * *

 **So, I killed off an OC. Yes, Ryle's gone for good. I've been planning to kill him for a long time...I know it probably seems kind of pointless but his death means something to me for whatever reason so I had to kill him. Oh, but on the plus side Haig's dead too.**

 **OK, now for the super-important AN: This may seem cruel, but this story is coming to a end. I know, it seems weird, but I have only one more chapter planned plus an epilogue; it's always ended this way for me and I'm not going to make myself miserable by trying to change that.**

 **However, there is (hopefully) good news. I'm considering a sequel. What do you think? Too early to decide? Let me know!**

 **Thank you all, for your enormous support. Your follows, favorites, and reviews mean the world to me! Thank you again!**


	26. Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

* * *

 **Hello!**

 **Here it is; the last real chapter! I'll save the ANs for the end, shall I?**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

* * *

" _Pendragons_." Aldwyn growled. "Stuck-up idiots…"

Arthur ignored him. "Okay, let's start from the beginning."

"Right now?" Cleva didn't like the way this was going. _Elen needs help, and we're not going to get it by standing here and answering the questions of a irritated King of Camelot._

Arthur ignored her too. "So, Aldwyn, Gwaine, and the twins are royalty. And Gwaine's sister."

 _Oh dear, he found that out, did he?_

"Why they hell didn't you tell us you were the sons of the King of Bernicia?" This inquiry was aimed at the twins.

Everard answered it with a glare and the words, "And what else? That our father allows magic-users in the kingdom? Or that we have a sorceress for a cousin? Would you have helped us then? Somehow I doubt it."

"It wouldn't have made _that_ much of a difference! Sorceress cousin aside, it's not like you two have magic." Arthur sounded almost sulky.

 _So he knows about that, too. That's…unfortunate._

"And what if we did? You'd have just accused us of 'conspiring against Camelot' or something similar and either thrown us out or chopped off our heads!"

"Everard, that's enough." Aldwyn's voice was quiet but clear as he unexpectedly took the side of dimplomacy. After a brief pause, Everard took a shuddering breath and stepped back to stand with his twin slightly behind the older prince.

Arthur seemed to take that as a signal to continue. "And as for…Tell me, Gwaine, did 'Sir Gwaine' ever really exist, or were you just playing around?"

Cleva winced, but Gwaine didn't lose what was left of his composure. "I told you, Arthur. I hoped you were different. I was mistaken." Then he laughed. "Basically the last ten years of my life has been one giant mistake. Figures."

 _Oh_ , _Gwaine…_

Arthur looked like he wanted to murder Gwaine on the spot, but instead got himself under control and asked, "All right, someone please explain those…those _things_." He gestured towards the wyverns. "Sir Percival said something about wyverns, but as we were running for our lives at that point I might have missed something."

"These 'things' are _my_ wyverns." Hayden snapped with unusual ire. "Ryle asked me to bring them. And they're the reason you're still alive. So if you have anything to say about them…" He was interrupted by Diamond beginning to nibble on his hair. "Ow! Drat, they're hungry."

Cleva sighed. _Just what we need on top of everything else right now; hungry wyverns._

"Well, Arthur, you just broke one of the most important unspoken laws of the land." Gwaine commented sarcastically. "Don't insult Hayden's wyverns. It's right up there with 'don't wave swords at Hayden's wyverns'."

Before Arthur could come up with a response to that, a shout sounded from the castle gates. Turning, they beheld Sirs Leon and Percival emerging leading what looked like the the company's horses loaded with the company's packs. "Sire!" called Leon. "It seems that Lord Haig's men spent some time scavenging after the skirmish. Oh, those must be the wyverns you were talking about, Percival."

 _At least someone's keeping calm,_ Cleva thought wryly.

The horses clearly didn't like the wyverns, so Leon left Percival a short distance away with them and walked closer. "Is everyone all right?"

"Except for Gwaine's sorceress sister, yes." Elyan replied.

Leon sighed and said to the group at large, "Before Percival and I found the stables and our mounts, we came across Lord Haig."

"Where is he?" Aldwyn demanded instantly, gripping his sword.

"He's dead." Leon replied quickly. "So is that sorcerer Ryle. Looks like they killed each other."

Cleva was close enough to Hayden to hear his quick intake of breath. But his voice was steady as he said, "So you were right, Gwaine. Ryle did kill Haig."

 _So I guess it's all over. Sort of._

Unless the Pendragons and Barclayns decided to start a war.

* * *

For the next couple hours, everyone worked together under an unspoken truce.

It was quite clear that the Barclayns and their friends wanted to go home to Bernicia (according to Hayden, they were presently near the northern border of Gododdin), while Arthur and his knights wanted to go back to Camelot as soon as possible. That meant that most of them had to search through the jumbled mess the mercenaries had made of their belongings and figure out whose supplies belong to whom (and which horses since Arthur wanted the animals from Camelot back from the Barclayns; in the end it was decided that Hayden was going to walk back with his wyverns, while the twins took his horse and Gwaine took Ryle's). Arthur, the knights, Aldwyn, and the twins saw to that while Cleva helped Merlin with any injuries and Percival opted to help Hayden bury Ryle. It seemed that they'd been distant relatives or something, and for some reason, the wyvern-tamer had wanted to do it right away. No one suggested that they bother burying anyone else.

At present, Merlin was tending to Elen, with little result. Her injuries were just too numerous, and she was so weak… _It's lucky she's as tough as her brother, or she'd be dead already._

He looked up as Gwaine crouched down beside him. "How is she?"

Merlin glanced around as a precaution before replying in a low tone, "My ability to heal using magic isn't exactly that great. I've done my best; I think she'll make it long enough so that you can get her to a better healer, like your mother."

Gwaine nodded and murmured, "Thank you, Merlin."

Merlin shrugged. "How're the wyverns?" Gwaine had been watching them while Hayden was otherwise occupied, since he seemed fairly comfortable with the task.

"They're hungry. Really, _really_ hungry. Hayden said that he'll take them on a different route back home so they can hunt without interference."

A minute later, Percival walked past to join the knights. At Merlin and Gwaine's questioning gazes, he explained shortly, "He's up on the hill. Said he needed a moment."

Merlin hesitated a moment, then stood up. "I'm going to go see if he wants to talk."

Gwaine nodded. "I'll keep an eye on Elen and wyverns."

"Are you sure you can do both at once?"

"If I need help I'll ask Cleva."

"Okay." Merlin headed up the nearby hill.

He found Hayden standing by a newly-erected burial cairn, looking out over the surrounding forest. "Hey." the warlock said.

Hayden smiled slightly. "Hello, Merlin. I see that Gwaine is keeping my wyverns in line. For now."

Merlin laughed. They stood in companionable silence for a few minutes before Merlin ventured, "Who was he, exactly? To you, I mean. If you don't mind my asking."

Hayden shrugged. "I don't mind." He hesitated, then said quietly, "He was a distant cousin of mine…and a friend of sorts. He'd look after the wyverns if I needed to leave for a while."

"Did you have any closer relatives that could do that?"

Hayden shook his head. "Mother died when I was a child, Father passed away a few years ago. Any closer relatives…just don't like wyverns. Ryle doesn't…didn't, either. Or so he claimed. I suppose it was just another challenge for him; he liked to have something to do."

"I'm sorry." Merlin said after a few seconds.

Hayden shrugged again. "He…he never like sentimentality, Ryle. He would've wanted to be buried like this, somewhere that could be forgotten. Somewhere wild."

Merlin commented, "He always struck me as having a rather…rough personality."

"He was what life made him. His entire immediate family was slaughtered in some silly blood feud when he was ten or eleven. Something to do with the clans in the northern part of Bernicia…It's often a complete mess up there. He…I don't think Ryle ever recovered."

"I probably wouldn't have, either." Merlin remarked.

"Agreed. Still, he died a hero of sorts." Hayden didn't speak again for a while. When he did, he changed the subject. "You know, my grandfather claimed that he was descended from a daughter of a Dragonlord. I never knew whether to believe him or not."

Merlin laughed. "Either way, you certainly have a gift with wyverns."

"It's all about how you treat them. Tell me, have you met an actual dragon?"

"Yes, I met the Great Dragon. His name's Kilgharrah. He was imprisoned by Uther Pendragon, but I freed him." Merlin winced slightly; he still didn't like to recall the immediate results of that blunder. "I also hatched a baby dragon, once."

"Extraordinary." Hayden spoke in an awed tone. "To see a dragon hatch…It was rumored that all the dragons were destroyed…but who knows? It's a big world. Where are the dragons now?"

"I'm not sure. They can't stay too close to Camelot…But I suppose you raise your wyverns from birth?"

"It works the best if you do. I have the most adorable one right now…Topaz. He's only a year old and about the size of a large cat."

"Sounds like a handful." _I can't believe this; I'm standing in broad daylight, talking to someone about young wyverns._

"He's actually far better behaved that the last one; Peridot had a habit of flying off and hiding in trees. She's a little better about that now that she's older."

"You make her sound like a disobedient puppy!"

"It's the truth! Actually, I find wyverns preferable to dogs; I mean, can dogs fly?"

Merlin found himself chuckling. "Some people would see the flying as a problem."

" _Merlin!_ " Arthur's voice rang through the woods.

Merlin and Hayden exchanged glances. "It's probably time to get going." Hayden said quietly. "I suppose this is goodbye."

"For now." Merlin grinned. "If you're ever passing Camelot, feel free to drop in and visit. Just don't bring your pets and make sure Arthur doesn't see you." Hayden laughed.

They shook hands and parted ways; Merlin hurried to find Arthur, while Hayden remained at Ryle's graveside a few moments longer.

Merlin reached the others to find everyone already prepared for departure. The knights were already mounted on their horses, while the group leaving for Bernicia were clearly preparing to do the same. Merlin hurried to his animal.

"I see no need to linger here any longer." Arthur began to say, but was interrupted by Hayden's loud whistling from up the hillside. The wyverns, pacing around nearby, perked up and launched themselves from the ground, flying to their master. When they approached him, he directed them through more whistling to fly in circles above as he joined the others.

Arthur watched with distaste before continuing, "So this is where we part."

Aldwyn, seated on his horse and holding Elen in the saddle before him, asked softly, "Is this…incident going to cause further conflict?"

 _Translation: Is this going to start a war?_ Merlin thought to himself as he mounted his horse.

Following a moment of strained silence, Arthur said coldly, "I'm going to try to forget that it ever happened."

Merlin felt simaltaneous relief and horror at Arthur's words. _There'll be no war, but he'll never sanction contact with any of these people again._

He had barely even begun to consider the ramifications before Aldwyn replied, "So be it. Goodbye and good riddance, Pendragon." He turned his horse and spurred it to a trot. The now-mounted Cleva, Everard, and Elwin followed him. Gwaine, however, hesitated.

Arthur wouldn't even look at him as he led his knights in the other direction. "Are you coming, Merlin?" he shouted over his shoulder.

Merlin didn't make any effort to start his horse moving as Hayden spoke to Gwaine. "I'll expect you to come by and give me a full account of your adventures when this is over; right now I'd better hurry and find the wyverns something unintelligent to hunt before they decide that I'm not worth having around."

"You'll be alright?"

"Of course; I've got the best bodyguards in the world!" Hayden gestured upwards before disappearing into the trees.

Gwaine and Merlin were left more or less alone. The former-knight made the first move; maneuvering his horse closer to Merlin's so they were face to face, he said in a vaguely teasing tone, "So, this is it."

Merlin nodded. "Yes."

"Goodbyes are always rough, aren't they?" Gwaine commented lightly. "Especially when they're forever."

" _Merlin!_ " Arthur's voice drifted back to them.

Ignoring it, Merlin spoke quickly. "One day, things will change. Arthur will see that not all magic is evil, he'll see that it can be used for good…Someday he'll understand why you did the things you did."

Gwaine smiled slightly. "Perhaps. And on that day…or after it, I suppose…perhaps we'll meet again." He paused. "You've been a good friend, Merlin."

Merlin returned his smile. "Likewise."

They stared at each other in silence for a few long moments before gripping each other's hands one last time. "One day…" Gwaine murmured.

The Barclayn turned his horse and galloped off after his companions without looking back.

The warlock watched him for a moment longer before heading after the Knights of Camelot.

* * *

The ride to the city of Bernicia lasted until just past dark.

Gwaine alternated between panicking over Elen's condition (though it remained fairly stable) and silently mourning the loss of his friends.

Saying goodbye to Merlin had been heart-wrenching, certainly; but it was Arthur's cold, silent dismissal that stung the most at present. Gwaine had seen the other knights, Percival in particular, shooting him apologetic looks. But he knew perfectly well that they didn't see him the same as they used to. None of them did.

 _Does it matter? I'm almost an enemy now. Does it matter how they view me when I'll probably never see them again?_

Yes, it did. They'd been his friends, his brothers. It mattered to him.

 _Arthur said he was going to try to forget the whole business. I doubt that's possible…for any of them._

Merlin wouldn't forget. He wouldn't even try to.

In his friend's eyes, Gwaine had seen the sadness of parting, but also the hope; the hope that the words he'd spoken were true, and that one day magic would return to Camelot. Gwaine wondered how many times Merlin had told himself that would happen. _Many times, but he clings to it still._

And if Merlin felt that it was possible, it was probably more than just a fool's hope.

However, all thought of Camelot was driven out of Gwaine's head when he and the others crested a grassy hill and saw the city before them, rising out of the swelling hills in the gleaming moonlight.

Gwaine had spent his childhood mostly in two places; his father's castle further to the southeast, and in the city of Bernicia. Now, seeing the city again, even dimly, brought tears to his eyes.

 _Home._

The guards at the gates let them through as soon as they recognized Aldwyn and the twins. Once they got the go ahead, the company rushed through the darkened streets of the mostly quiet city in a flurry of thundering hooves. Almost before Gwaine realized it, they were at the gates of the castle.

"Where is the king?" Aldwyn shouted at the nearest guard as they all dismounted.

"I believe he is in the council chambers, my lord." the startled guard replied.

"What, this late? Here, you lot, take Lady Elen to the court physician's chambers, and if Lady Ela is still in the city, fetch her too." As four guards hastened to obey, Gwaine made to follow them but was stopped by Aldwyn's hand on his arm. "Cleva will go with her. You come with me and the twins."

Unsure why Aldwyn insisted on this but unwilling to argue it, Gwaine turned to the lady in question, who nodded. "Go with the princes; I'll make sure she's tended to."

The twins, though exhausted, actually led the way to the council chambers, obviously delighted to be home. The head guard hurried just behind them with Gwaine and Aldwyn. "The king had pressing court business with his advisors to attend to this evening, I believe, which is why he is there so late…"

Rushing down the painfully familiar halls, Gwaine found it hard to process anything including what the guard was saying. All he knew was that his pounding heart felt like it was trying to leap out of his throat. _So close…_

They burst into the council room without waiting to be announced or even knocking.

" _Father!_ " Everard and Elwin shouted at the top of their lungs as they ran to the king, whose beard was longer and somewhat greyer than Gwaine remembered and who promptly knocked over a table and three chairs in order to get to his sons.

"You young fools!" he yelled at them even as he pulled them both into an extremely tight embrace. "Were you trying to kill me before my time?"

Aldwyn and Gwaine moved further into the room, which was in an uproar as King Harlan's advisors all stood and started talking at once. Many of them were staring confusedly at Gwaine, which made him extremely uncomfortable.

"And YOU!" bellowed Harlan, catching sight of his eldest son over the twins' heads. "Get over here, now!"

Aldwyn looked like he wanted to drop dead, but instead threw his shoulders back and strode bravely to meet his father, who simply yanked him into a fierce hug as well. "Disobey my orders again and I'll disown you!"

"That's what you always say." mumbled Aldwyn, who, despite age and dignity, didn't seem too upset about being hugged.

His father smacked him on the back of the head for his comment, but not very hard. "Someone fetch the queen! And Princess Braeden! And my daughters! And Aunt Gytha! NOW!" Several guards went scurrying off before he could tell them to hurry up. "Where the hell were you? All of you?"

"It's a long story." Aldwyn hastened to say. "Cousin Elen is…injured; Lady Cleva's with her…"

"You sent them to the physician? Did you ask them to find Ela?" Harlan demanded.

" _Yes_ , Father, I am not stupid."

"Hmph, of course not, just disobedient." Harlan loosened his grip on his children and looked around the room. "Who is this?" he pointed at Gwaine rather rudely, but that was normal behavior for Harlan. Gwaine was more concerned with the way everyone in the room began to stare at him, rather than just half. He was at loss for what to say.

The twins looked just as bewildered as to what to do, but Aldwyn tried to help him out. "Um…this…er, Father, do you… _recognize_ him?"

"Gwaine." It wasn't Harlan who spoke, but the entire room fell silent at that single word.

Gwaine's gaze moved to a table in the corner of the room, at which was seated the only person who hadn't stood at the arrival of the princes. He stood now, slowly, his features lighted by a torch in a wall bracket beside him.

He had changed, physically at least, more than Harlan had. His long hair and shorter beard had almost entirely faded to grey, his shoulders were slightly stooped and he simply looked overall much, much older. But it was him.

Gwaine found that he couldn't move from where he stood due to shock, though at the same time he didn't want to; as if this was a spell that could break if he dared to try.

"What?" Harlan croaked, momentarily shocked out of using his customary shouting voice.

The man from the corner stepped forward, ignoring the king's confusion. "Gwaine." he said again, more gently this time. Rather like he was trying to calm a skittish horse.

It worked, though. Gwaine regained control of his limbs and stumbled forward, discaring propriety, forgetting the spectators, and not caring about anything but the fact that his father was alive and right before him.

Goddard didn't say a word as he pulled his son into a tight embrace that lasted a very long time. And as Gwaine hugged him back, he allowed himself to cry.

Later, they would have to talk. He'd have to try to explain everything that had happened. He'd have to accept the consequences. He'd have to readjust to life here, find his own place. Later.

Right now, Gwaine was just fine with being nothing more than a lost child returning home.

* * *

"Merlin, are you going to eat your chicken or do I need to save it for tomorrow?"

Merlin looked up from his plate and gave Gaius a sheepish look. "I'm sorry, Gaius, I was just thinking."

"Ah. About Gwaine, I suppose."

Merlin nodded and looked back at his plate again.

The trip back to Camelot had gone without further incident (save for a run-in with a bear and one of the horses falling into a river). They'd returned to Camelot the previous afternoon. Everyone had been happy to see the king return mostly unscathed, but confused at Gwaine's disappearance. To Merlin's knowledge, only Queen Guinevere and Gaius had gotten the full story. Arthur had told the other knights that Gwaine turned out to be a Bernician and had decided to stay in that country rather than return to Camelot. Beyond that, Arthur said nothing. He refused to even acknowledge any mention of Gwaine afterwards.

Gwen had been startled to learn of Gwaine's heritage, but hadn't criticized Arthur's decision to forget about it. Though she'd told Merlin, "We really should've suspected something; he was so uncomfortable around Everard and Elwin and they were similar in appearance…". But she made no further mention of it.

Gaius, of course, hadn't been surprised about any of it, since Merlin hadn't exactly hidden the facts from him before he left Camelot. But now, over dinner, he had a revelation to make. "Merlin, you said that at some point Gwaine mentioned his mother's name in passing…"

"Yeah, he said it was Ela. I told you that, right? And how she fled the Purge…"

"You did." Gaius sighed and leaned on the tabletop. "Well, Merlin, I've been casting my mind back almost thirty years, and I distinctly remember a gifted young sorceress with healing skills who was living in the lower town. She studied with me sometimes…Her parents had died, and she was taking care of her younger siblings. All three had magic, and sometimes when she came to learn from me she brought them along. They were all very kind and sweet children…in the beginnings of the Purge, Uther's men got to them before she or I could. I saw her only once after they were killed, just before she fled for her life…I have never forgotten the fury in her eyes, nor will I be able to."

"Gwaine's mother…" Merlin murmured. "It's extraordinary…after everything his mother went through here…things he knew about…he served a Pendragon."

"He did what he thought was right." Gaius said, "Just like Arthur is doing what he thinks is right." When Merlin did not respond, the old physician said gently, "You may see him again, Merlin."

Merlin nodded, gazing at nothing. "I hope so." he said finally. "Someday."

 _When things are different._

* * *

 **So now there's just the epilogue and that's it.**

 **I can't believe how much I loved writing this story (and knowing that you enjoyed reading it!). This has been the largest writing project I've ever done, and I'm so grateful for all the support I've gotten! Special thanks to everyone who reviewed; you guys are amazing!**

 **I've found that several people do want a sequel, so I'm going to go ahead with it. I don't want to give too much away, but the sequel will probably be sort of like an AU Season 5 (since this story was set post-Season 4) though not exactly. I hope that sounds alright to you!**

 **The epilogue should be up within a couple days.**

 **Have a great day/night!**


	27. Epilogue

Epilogue

* * *

 **Hi, everyone!**

 **I very much wanted to post this last night. But I held off.**

 **So, this is...kind of the end. But also the beginning, in a way, since there's going to be a sequel. I'm not sure how long it'll take to get my crazy imagination in order so I can start writing, but hopefully it will be soon because I'm really into Merlin right now! (yet again :D) In future any info on the sequel will be on my profile until the sequel itself is actually posted.**

 **Warnings: I have a confession...I'm in love with crazy plot twists. So I apologize for anything in advance. Bear in mind that "all may not be as it seems". :)**

 **Thank you again for all your follows/faves/reviews!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

 **Please enjoy the finale of The Reasons Why They Don't Know Me!**

* * *

He'd almost forgotten how beautiful Bernicia was.

The view from the highest castle balcony was truly stunning, even at nighttime.

The land of Camelot had its open places, but most of the country was covered in forests of various density. Bernicia's landscape consisted mainly of lofty highlands, with narrow strips of woodland running between towering moors. The land was as wild as its people (or perhaps the other way around). He'd missed the vast open hillsides, the stony brooks, the familiar touch of the never-ending wind.

He felt like he could breathe here.

 _Four months._

That was how long he'd been home now; four months.

At times it felt like he'd never left; like the ten years of wandering alone, drinking constantly, and fighting alongside the King of Camelot had never happened.

Then he'd meet an old friend in the market, or see a unfamiliar building along a familiar road, and it would hit him again like a physical blow; just how long he'd been gone. It especially hurt to see his old family home; all of the apple trees he remembered as saplings had grown into maturity. However, it did help to see that the eldest trees were virtually unchanged by only ten years.

Then, from people in general, there were the looks; speculative looks, confused looks, even angry ones. At first there had been speculation over _who_ he was. Before long, as word had spread, it had turned into speculation over _where_ he had been.

He told himself that he didn't care. To prove it, he didn't try to hide where he'd been. If someone asked, he told them. Not many people did, but when asked, he didn't whisper the answer.

The real whispering had started shortly after the stares. Rumors began to circulate, even more numerous now that they could be at least partly based on truth.

 _Been in the south, he has…Spent a couple years in Camelot, I heard…Drinks like a fish, they say…He was a Knight of Camelot? Ha!_

He'd been afraid of words like "traitor" for a while. But that had mostly taken care of itself when he admitted, more than once, that he felt no loyalty towards Camelot or King Arthur. Not anymore.

 _"If I did, you'd think that I would've stayed there."_

Still, gossip ran wild, even months later. And he did care.

What saved him then was the fact that he had much more pressing things to worry about. Like struggling to adjust to Bernician life again. Keeping away from the tavern. And dealing with his family.

His uncle had wanted to throw him in the dungeons initially (the bit about being a Knight of Camelot really hadn't gone over well; thankfully his father had managed to talk the fuming king out of it). His aunt and great-aunt had fussed over him intolerably. His eldest female cousin had tried to take his head off with a throwing axe. His youngest female cousin had, at first, been absolutely terrified of him. His other aunt had come thundering in from the next kingdom the minute she learned of his return and had scared him and the rest of the castle residents nearly out of their wits. He was just grateful that he'd already gone over this stage with his eldest cousin and the twins.

His father…what he had done to his father still hurt, though the older man made it more than clear that it didn't have to matter, that they could forgive and move on. He constantly trying to do so, but it was terribly hard to do so. The guilt of years did not fade away overnight.

Meanwhile, his mother had gone sporadically between scolding him viciously and…well, mothering him (which was nice). When she wasn't tending to his sister.

 _My sister_.

She would survive, though it was unclear if she'd ever recover fully. Though relieved that she would live, it still pained him to see her now. Every time he saw her, spoke to her, she seemed so empty. And when he tried to feel through whatever empathic connection they had…she seemed empty there too.

He wasn't sure if anyone else noticed, but it was more than her agile mind and quick wit that seemed absent; it was something that shouldn't just be able to up and disappear. In her present state, he wasn't even sure that she noticed it, either.

He did. And it terrified him. For one thing, without it she would never seem quite like the sister he knew. And for another…

 _Best not to think about it too hard. It's nothing; I'm sure there's a simple explanation._ _Well, okay, when is anything ever simple with magic? Case-in-point: Merlin. But Merlin aside..._

Maybe he should ask his mother about it. She'd know.

This evening, as he headed down a partially-open staircase in the direction of his chambers, a flickering torch in a corner caught his eye. While he was still gazing at it, the flames leapt up abnormally high and seemed to change color.

He jumped back so violently that he collided with the nearest wall. And when he looked at the torch again, it seemed perfectly normal.

Forcing himself to breathe normally, he continued on his way to his chambers. The whole way there he spent busily convincing himself that it was nothing.

Just a trick of the northern wind.

* * *

 **The End**


End file.
